


Mater Semper Certa Est

by CallMeHux, mdgarcia



Series: Star Trek: Full Speed Ahead - Task Force Vanguard [2]
Category: Star Trek - Various Authors, Star Trek: Expanded Universe
Genre: Action, Angst, Family Angst, Gen, Military, Space Battles, Space Pirates, Starfleet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 11:57:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 41,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19250740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeHux/pseuds/CallMeHux, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdgarcia/pseuds/mdgarcia
Summary: Part Two of Full Speed Ahead's Task Force Vanguard trilogy, part of theUnited Trekproject!Stardate 54790.64: Immediately following the events ofTo Triumph and Not to Mourn, Rear Admiral Krystine Leone struggles through her grief of Ariel's death.  In the postwar Federation, several member worlds taking on the burden of rebuilding from their massive losses are also fending off the sharp increase of piracy as Starfleet finds it is spread far too thin for antebellum operations.  Among those worlds is Betazed, whose representatives have become vocal and threatening in conference.  The Ministry of Defense sends Admiral Leone aboardIndefatigableto directly address the defense of Betazed and the surrounding sectors of Federation space.  Meanwhile, Dominic deals with the fallout of his actions during his time at Starfleet Academy with the prospect of joining Task Force Vanguard looming over him, removing him from the Alpha Quadrant for the next five years of his career!





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **Historian's Note:** The events portrayed within this novella take place between the _Star Trek: Voyager_ seventh season episodes, "Friendship One" and "Natural Law." Further, within the Task Force Vanguard continuity, these events occur at the same time as _Star Trek: Gibraltar_ 's first Vanguard novel, "At the Gates."

**Star Trek: Full Speed Ahead  
** **"Mater Semper Certa Est"**  
**by Michael D. Garcia & CallMeHux**  


 

Prologue

 

The Yarborough Family Vineyards  
Napa Valley, California, Earth  
Stardate 54790.64 (16 October 2377)  
Main Courtyard

 

Rear Admiral (lower half) Krystine M. Leone, along with her friends and family , were seated around a table at the reception of the wedding of recently-reinstated Captain Jesse Kincaid and his bride, Commander Isira Otex.  Appetizer courses were about to be served, but most of the guests were still milling around, eating _hors d'oeuvres_ and drinking as they socialized.

Although they were both Starfleet officers, neither the bride nor groom wore their formal uniforms. Isira was clad in a lovely lavender gown in a style Leone thought was rather reminiscent of Grecian style, while he wore a black tuxedo. Their attendants were dressed in similar civilian garb.

"It's a good thing I'm taken," Captain Diego Herrera commented from Leone's right, as he toyed with the stem of his wine glass. "I don't think there's a single woman here who isn't spellbound by sight of the Otex brothers in their tuxes.  I'd have no chance." 

Leone gave him a polite smile in quiet agreement. Both Colonel Andrus Otex and his brother, Lieutenant Commander Govan Harli, were tall, lean men with black hair and piercing blue eyes. Andrus was built more powerfully and had spent his adult life as a Marine, whereas Govan's physique was closer to that of a swimmer, but both of them made it look easy to pull off a tuxedo.

As Leone watched, Govan pulled himself away from the bride and groom and headed for her table. He was one of the few non-Trill in the Federation to carry a symbiont, and had carried one since the age of sixteen. The symbiont inside of him, Harli, had been born during the American Civil War, and he carried himself with all of the confidence such a long life could instill.

"I'm glad you both could make it," he greeted both officers, as he approached with a grin on his face.

"Miss a party like this? How could I?" Diego asked. 

"Naturally. You'll love the menu my sister picked out," Govan replied.

"Didn't Kincaid have an opinion on it?"

"He wanted to get married at City Hall. The only options he wanted to discuss are baby names."

Diego choked back his drink and gave Govan an incredulous look.  "What, already?" he asked. 

"Yeah, already. They're not pregnant yet, but if he has his way, I'll be an uncle again  within a year."

Leone smirked.  "And your sister's opinion on that?"

"She told him he had to move the furniture out of the guest room to make it into a nursery, so I take it she's on board with the plan, sir," Govan cheerfully reported. He glanced around the reception. "Ah, Captain Herrera?" he asked.

"Yes?" Diego replied.

"I believe your date is in need of rescue. She seems to have been cornered by my sister's new mother-in-law." May Kincaid was a woman of opinions and she was not shy about sharing them with anyone … at any time.

Diego chuckled and got to his feet. "Duty calls." He nodded at the the younger officer and said, "Thanks for the heads up," before slipping into the crowd.

Once they were effectively alone, Govan slid into the seat next to Leone’s.  "I meant to ask you, sir,” he said, "how are you holding up?"

Leone hesitated for all of a microsecond before forcing a smile to her lips.  "I'm doing well, thank you." She quickly changed the subject. "I thought it was a beautiful ceremony."

Govan tilted his head slightly at her response.  "Er... yes. Yes, it was. And I know that my sister is grateful to you for deciding not to press charges against her husband."

Leone placed her hands in front of the belt on her admiralty uniform.  "I think it was about time to let bygones be bygones."

"... right," he replied, unconvinced. The pair lapsed into silence, all but staring at each other before Leone smiled, faintly but genuinely. 

"You should be celebrating with your sister and her husband," she reminded him.

"I should," he agreed.  He might have said more, but they were soon interrupted by the arrival of Lieutenant Dominic Leone.

He arrived carrying a small, but overfilled plate of _hors d'oeuvres_.  "Have you guys tried these little wrapped sausages? They're amazing!" enthused the lean, sandy-haired officer.

Govan eyed his plate.  "How could we? You've cornered the market."  He lifted himself from the chair and smiled. "I'm sure we'll talk later, Admiral."

"Of course," Leone replied.  Once Govan departed, she turned her attention back to her son, Dominic.  "I cannot imagine that you're going to eat that small mountain of food."

"You need to work on your imagination, then," Dominic said quickly.  Already three of them vanished within a minute. "They're delicious."

Leone rolled her eyes; the table with the Colonial fleet members that had served with Kincaid during the days of the Maquis stared openly at the spectacle.  "You're embarrassing yourself, Dom."

He chortled.  "It's a wedding.  That's kind of the point, Mom."  He offered one to her. "Try one."

She felt her good humor disappear and a flash of sudden rage erupt within her.  "Compose yourself, Lieutenant," she said, doing everything she could to keep her voice down.

The sudden change in her demeanor was not lost on him. Looking lazily up at Leone, Dominic remarked, "You really are your mother's daughter,  _ Admiral _ ."  He pushed away from the table. "I'm going to get another plate."

Leone’s anger immediately turned to shame.  "Dom..." she called out to him softly. Either he did not hear her, or he ignored her.  She clenched her white-gloved hands tightly upon the lap of her mess dress trousers.

"Is everything alright?" asked a new, feminine voice.

Leone recognized it immediately.  "Yes, I'm fine, Auntie," she replied, with a forced smile.

Admiral Alynna Nechayev, the sitting Chief of Starfleet Intelligence and her direct superior, placed a hand upon Leone's shoulder.  "Are you sure? You seemed a bit tired." Nechayev wore gloves, however, Leone could still feel the warmth through the shoulder of her uniform.  Nechayev's considerable awards and decorations sat proudly just below the Starfleet Delta upon the chest of her mess dress uniform.

Nechayev's close ties with Leone's family, as well as being Leone's godmother, garnered the affectionate title of "aunt," though they were not related.

"I'm fine, really," Leone assured her quickly.  "Just, Dom's decided to use the appetizer course as his own personal trough.  Other than that, everything is just peachy."

"He's filling out. Didn't you once tell me that he ate everything in sight for two years straight when you were living on  _ Farragut _ ?" Nechayev answered, with a familial smile. "He's tall, and he couldn't stay skinny forever."

Leone folded her arms.  "He doesn't have to push weight requirements, though."  She turned away from the view of Dom serving himself to ask Nechayev, "I didn't think you would be coming to the reception."

"I hope the bride and groom don't mind, but I decided to crash the event," Nechayev admitted.  "I also brought a 'plus-one,'" she added, nodding in Dominic's direction.

"You brought a  _ date _ ?" Leone asked, incredulously.  She turned back to see who it was, and saw her mother, Vice Admiral Angelina Leone (retired) standing and talking to Dom.  She managed a wan smile and deadpanned, "You could do so much better, Aunt Alynna."

Nechayev playfully swatted her adoptive niece.  "Smartass."

"All kidding aside, what is she doing here?"

"I'll let her tell you."

Leone groaned.  "I don't really think I can handle any more surprises right now."

"No, it's good news," Nechayev said.  Off her jaundiced glance, she smiled. "Really, I promise you."

After turning back toward her mother and son, she jerked a thumb toward Angelina and asked, "Does it have something to do with the fact that my  _ mother _ is wearing her dress uniform?   She hasn't worn that since I was promoted to captain."

Nechayev did not have time to respond as Angelina and Dominic approached the table.  Leone greeted her mother in the manner which was demanded. "Good afternoon, sir."

"Good afternoon, Rear Admiral," Angelina replied, with an unusually wide grin.  "I trust that you're in good spirits today?"

Dominic suddenly seemed to lose his appetite, as he pushed his near-full plate away from him.

Leone met her mother’s gaze.  "I am, sir, thank you for asking," she said softly.  "May I ask what brings you out in dress uniform?"

Angelina seated herself next to her daughter and kept her grin.  "I'm pleased to be the one to inform you that you're being reassigned from Starfleet Intelligence."

Leone looked between the two high-ranking officers in confusion.  "I beg your pardon, sir? I don't understand."

"If you would allow me the opportunity to explain...?"

"Yes, sir.  Sorry."

Angelina reached out with her left hand to pat her daughter's forearm slowly.  "Your aunt and I have been in discussion with Starfleet Command regarding your performance … specially this last mission that brought an end to the Maquis element in the Badlands.  You managed to impress a lot of people, Admiral." 

Leone said nothing, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Her mother pressed on. 

"Tomorrow morning at oh-eight-thirty, the Federation Council is going to confirm your promotion.  You're getting your second star."

The news brought with it a sense of light-headedness and Leone's eyes widened at the news.  "Wh-What?"

Angelina leaned forward awkwardly to embrace her daughter.  "Congratulations."

Dominic's elation brought him to Leone's other side to join the embrace.  "Mom, I'm so proud of you."

The sudden outpouring of affection at Leone's table caused many to turn their heads at them, so much so that Leone herself begged off from the hugging.  "I don't want to overshadow the happy couple’s big day, so... I mean, could we keep it quiet until tomorrow? Please, sir?"

Before Angelina could protest, Nechayev agreed.  "Absolutely. Report to my office tomorrow morning, oh-eight hundred.  We'll watch the Council session and the vote."

"Thank you," Leone replied with a smile.  She then turned to her mother and asked, "Getting back to my earlier question: Why are you in uniform?"

* * *

From across the room, Abbie watched the Leone family and sipped at her iced mint tea. Without looking, she heard as someone approached to her right and she commented, "If that's the only affection the vice admiral can muster when she's actually happy, I can't imagine what it's like to be married to that. Her husband deserves seventeen medals."

Govan chuckled by her side. "Don't let her hear you say that. She's vindictive."

"Please. She's retired, and Gleason's got more pull than her now. Plus, I have the excuse of pregnancy. The baby made me say it," Abbie declared loftily, turning slightly to face the Betazoid. "How many people here are thinking about how sexy you and your brother look?" she wondered.

"Wow. You are well into that stage of the pregnancy, huh?"

"You have no idea...or do you? You've been pregnant, right?"

"Yes. And yes."

"You say that with such aplomb.  It's weird."

"What can I say? How are you doing anyway?" Govan tried to change the subject.

"I'm fine. The pregnancy is fine, about to hit the third trimester. Greg's ridiculously excited. He's the first man to ever father a baby, you know," Abbie replied sarcastically.

Govan chuckled again. "He's a family man. You know he's always wanted to have children."

"I'm just glad he knows enough to keep it to himself when we're on duty. In our quarters, though..." The captain shook her head. "So, I hear you're being detached from that Defiant you commanded. Any word on your next assignment?"

"I have some leave time coming to me, so I'm being vetted by a few captains for open slots in their crew. Jesse and Isira are going to go on their honeymoon right from the reception, so I'll be in charge of Jacob while they're away," Govan acknowledged, glancing at the sixteen year old in question.

"When did he get so damn tall?" Abbie wondered. Not yet done growing, the teen already topped two meters.

"Sometime in the past 18 months, or so Isira tells me. He had to get new clothes every couple of months."

"Heh. Now I'm in that club," Abbie noted dryly. "Listen, I have a proposition for you."

"Given what we just talked about, that segue sounds like it's going in a whole 'nother direction, captain," Govan noted slyly. 

Abbie smirked in response. "I have an open position on  _ Indie _ ; Chief of Sciences. I wanted to offer it to you, provided you'll switch divisions, of course."

"That's a little irregular..."

"Yes, but I need someone in the position who knows when to open his mouth and when to keep quiet. I've been offered a number of officers, none of whom I think can stand up to all the rather veteran commanders I have on the ship; my XO, chief engineer, and CMO are all full commanders, not to mention Greg, but... well, he's Greg." Nothing more really needed to be said about Commander Aspinall's lack of imposing personality. Despite his being a good officer, it was generally understood that he had made commander due to the war and his mother's position as the Chief of Starfleet Operations.

"I have never worked in the sciences in Starfleet before. Won't that cause some hard feelings in the department?"

"If it does, then they're not the officers I need on the ship. Let's pretend you haven't been a scientist for over five hundred years, Harli. You, Govan, have nine degrees. Most of them science-based, and you know more about how to command and run a department than anyone else I could get. And it'd be a big step up for you instead of a lateral move; you'd be a department head on a Sovereign-class ship before the age of thirty," Abbie spelled it out for him.

"It's certainly tempting. What's  _ Indie _ up to these days?" Govan inquired.

"Right now, she's the command ship for the Betreka sector. You know there's been a lot more activity in the area, since the war. We're far busier than I'd like to be dealing with pirates, but we have our share of diplomatic missions."

Govan considered the possibility. "It would be nice to be close to Betazed for a bit." He, like all of the Betazoids in Starfleet, was personally affected by the planet's occupation during the Dominion War. His parents had died in the initial assault, and both sets of his grandparents were killed in later fighting. He, however, like his brother and sister, had chosen to remain in Starfleet after the war when many of their brethren had resigned to return to their homeworld.

"I thought you might like that."

"I'd still like to use the rest of my leave, though. I have three weeks."

"I can make do with the interim officer I've got for that long. You still have to switch divisions anyway, and that kind of paperwork takes time."

"True." Govan gave her a grin. "Alright then, I'll do it."

Abbie grinned right back at him. "Excellent. I'll tell Joy, and someone from her office will probably contact you tomorrow to start the bureaucracy running.  In the meantime, in the spirit of your vacation, let's rejoin the party."

 


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

 

Starfleet Headquarters  
San Francisco, Earth  
Stardate 54795.44 (18 October 2377)  
Office of the Chief of Starfleet Intelligence

 

As the first minute of the eighth hour of the day expired, the entirety of the Leone family occupied the office of Admiral Alynna Nechayev.  Angelina Leone wore her dress uniform once more, but her husband, Patrice, stood next to her in mufti. Dominic and Krystine stood with Nechayev as they watched the large screen behind the large desk; the Council session was in progress.  All of them awaited the passing of the resolution to confirm Leone's promotion to Rear Admiral (upper half). 

Though she held the rank of Fleet Admiral, Nechayev no longer held the privilege of overall command of Starfleet as her term had expired over seven years ago, before the onset of the Federation-Klingon War.  Due to her service in that capacity, she retained the permanent rank that came with it. The Vulcan officer Sitak presently served as Starfleet's commanding officer as Fleet Admiral.

While the Leone family waited, Nechayev and Sitak entered the office in the same level of uniform for the impending ceremony. 

"Greetings," said Sitak.

The chorus of "sir" and "admiral" sounded in reply.

On the screen, the Councillor representing San Francisco introduced her resolution naming Krystine Leone to her new rank.  No sooner had the resolution finished being read that the voting began. Thirty minutes later, the resolution passed. Nechayev and Angelina moved quickly.

Angelina held a small white box in her hands, ready to open it as Sitak read the order from his PADD.  Once finished, she stepped forward as he said, "And now, for the presentation of rank, Vice Admiral Angelina Leone."

Through her excitement, Krystine Leone noticed the absence of the word "retired" from the admiral's sentence.  She kept her smile as her mother approached her with the dual pips in a gold rectangle.

"It is my privilege to promote Krystine Leone to the rank of Rear Admiral (upper half)," intoned Angelina.  "Congratulations, Admiral."

Leone waited for the other pips to be applied before she replied, "Thank you, sir."  She repeated it for Sitak and Nechayev.

Commander Patrice Leone (retired) embraced his daughter after a quick movement from his side of the office.  "I'm so proud of you," he whispered in her ear.

"Thank you, Daddy..." she whispered back.

Sitak nodded.  "I must attend to my duty.  Congratulations, Admiral Leone."  He turned to leave, but paused to speak quietly to Nechayev.  Nechayev nodded once, and the Vulcan exited.

All the while, Dominic grinned, waiting for his turn.  "Congratulations, Mom," he said, grabbing her and pulling her in for a tight hug.  He held her for a long moment before backing away. "And now, I must also follow Admiral Sitak's example to get back to work.”  He turned to Nechayev. “By your leave, Admiral?"

"On your way, Lieutenant," Nechayev replied glibly.

"Aye, sir," he said.  He tapped his combadge and called out, "Leone to _Adamant_.  One to beam up."  As Dominic dissolved into the transporter beam, Patrice made his preparations to leave to return home.  Only Patrice, Leone noted.

Leone looked at Angelina in surprise.  "Mother. You're not going with Daddy?"

Angelina smiled.  "I also have my duties."

"You _do_?"  Leone shot a glance toward Nechayev.  "What is she talking about?"

Nechayev cleared her throat.  "I had intended to discuss this with you after your meeting with Admiral Sitak, but I suppose we can get into that, now."  She walked to stand with her former captain and continued, "For the needs of the service, Vice Admiral Angelina Leone has been recalled to active duty.  She will be serving as a special adjutant to this office for the next eighteen months, minimum."

Leone's smile was frozen upon her face.  "I... see." She sighed. "Then I guess we'll be working pretty closely together, Mother."

"We'll see," replied Angelina.  "I believe all will be revealed to you by Admiral Sitak."

"I don't understand.  Am I being reassigned?" Leone looked at Nechayev, worry evident in her tone.

In the time that Leone had know her, Nechayev never once wavered in her conviction when speaking.  In those rare moments when there was a lack of conviction, it was obvious. Nechayev's eyes would lose their confidence and shift away from their direct contact with hers.  It was in that response that Leone saw the fleet admiral's eyes move away as she spoke in response, "I'll let Admiral Sitak explain what's happening."

Leone had no choice but to accept that.  "Yes, sir." She gestured with her right hand toward her office.  "Should I consider myself still assigned to this division until then...?"

"Yes, of course."  Nechayev continued, "Until further notice, however, I must ask you to avoid using the conference room."

"All right.  Any reason why?"

Angelina spoke up before Nechayev could respond, "I'm using it as my office, temporarily.  And that's all you need to know, for now."

Leone blinked, taken aback by that.  "With all due respect, Vice Admiral... I'm not one hundred percent clear on where you stand in my chain of command."

Nechayev quickly intervened.  "For the present time, Vice Admiral Leone is consulting on Task Force Vanguard.  I am still your commanding officer." She cast a quick sidelong glance toward Angelina.  "But, while your mother is using the conference room, just hold any meetings someplace else."

Leone nodded and was about to reply when Nechayev spotted someone and said quickly, "We'll have to table this discussion until later. Excuse me." She beat a hasty retreat while Leone gave her mother a questioning look.

"It's the Ferengi Ambassador. Alynna said she's this close to responding to his advances with enough force to cause a diplomatic incident."

"I didn't realize he was causing her problems."

"You aren't her best friend, Admiral Leone; I am," Angelina emphasized, leaving no doubt in Leone's mind where she thought she was in the chain of command.

* * *

"Did you enjoy your morning off, Mister Leone?" asked the Bolian executive officer of _Adamant_ , Lieutenant Commander Char.

Dominic looked up from the transporter platform toward the voice.  "Yes, sir. I thank you for your indulgence."

Char smirked.  "Anything for the son of a newly-promoted admiral."

Dominic frowned.  "Sir..."

"I know, I know," Char said with raised hands.  He ran a quick hand through his short brown hair and tapped his rank insignia on the way down.  "The privilege of my rank allows me a bit of a joke at your expense. You need to lighten up."

"Yes, sir."  Dominic replied, acquiescing with a nod of his head.  "Sorry, sir."

As they exited the transporter room aboard the Intrepid-class light cruiser, Char continued, "You're going to go through your entire career with that chip on your shoulder and it's going to cause problems.  Trust me, it's better to have a sense of humor about it while you're still young."

"I'll try to work on that, sir," Dominic promised.  They entered the turbolift and Char ordered them to the deck Dom's quarters were on.  "Sorry, but I thought I was supposed to report to the bridge?"

"You have a personal call from Utopia Planitia holding," Char told him.  "You're a popular officer today." The lift arrived at the proper deck and he held the door for him.  "Off you go. I'll let Lieutenant Hollis know you'll be delayed in getting to the bridge."

"Aye, sir.  Thank you," Dominic said as he moved down the corridor to enter his quarters.  He shared a junior officer's suite with a newly-minted ensign, but she was on duty.  He activated the screen to see the logo of the Starfleet Corps of Engineers. Instantly, he knew who was calling.  With a smile on his face he greeted her, "Hello."

"Hello, Lieutenant. My congratulations to your mother on her promotion," Lieutenant (jg) Teelis Tei responded, her tone somewhat formal. 

" _Lieutenant_?"  He chuckled.  "Teelis, it's me, Dom.  Is this an 'official' call?  Did the meeting with the Councillor regarding New Athens go poorly or something?" 

"No, the Councillor assures us that discussion in the Council have been productive regarding a possible Rihannsu resettlement. He noted that Areinnye's suggestion that the question be posed as an aid to the colony on New Athens itself, rather than a gift to the Rihannsu, is gaining some traction," Teelis answered.

Dominic smiled widely.  "That's great news, Teelis."

She pressed on, "However, I am calling because I have become aware of a troubling rumor. When I investigated, I found that you were the source."

"Rumor?" he wrinkled his nose.  "I assure you, I haven't said a single malicious word against you to anyone.  Surely, you know me well enough to know that."

Teelis shook her head. "I do not mean that sort of rumor. Have you made it known that..." She took a breath, her chin lifting. "... that you and I are a 'couple?'"

"O-Oh..." he said.  "Right. That." Dominic reached up to scratch at the top of his head.  "I can explain, but I'm hoping that you won't get angry with me." He paused to consider this words before continuing.

"Go on." It was a rather deft mimicry of so many superior officers waiting for an explanation from midshipmen at the Academy.

"It began when you first arrived at Starfleet Academy... I-Day, in fact," he said quickly.  "You were drawing a lot of attention and it was pretty clear by some of the reactions of those around me that you were about to become overly popular... to a distracting degree.  And so, I thought to circumvent this on your behalf by telling everyone that we were in a romantic relationship. That anyone who tried to 'distract' you would have to answer to me, personally."

"To… _challenge_ you?" Teelis questioned, confused. "The Academy has a rule against romantic relations. I could have simply cited it," she protested, even though her cheeks were already faintly green with embarrassment.

"I didn't want you to be embarrassed by all the attention," he blurted out suddenly, his voice raised.  He looked away, quickly, not wanting to meet her eyes. Dominic stammered, "T-There was additional personal benefit to that rumor.  It also had the side effect of taking me out of the running, so to speak. Without the additional social disadvantage of being seen as cold and unsocial.  The Academy is rough enough, you know? If anyone asked me out on a date, it helped to be able to hide behind that rumor."

"Then it was all a ruse to protect both of us from unnecessary distractions," Teelis answered slowly, as if she did not quite understand. "But your word was enough to convince people that we are "practically engaged"?" she questioned, perhaps revealing exactly how she came to find out about the lie.

Once again, his eyes shifted back and forth.  "Well, there were some off-campus activities that you and I did together that helped to convince interested... uh, parties... that it was truth."  Dominic shook his head and delivered his next statement with direct eye contact, "But, I can assure you that I never asked you to accompany me for that reason.  I honestly enjoy your company. I always have." On his last two sentences, his voice was suddenly confident.

"I don't understand why you did not tell me you were fostering this false impression." Teelis sounded quite hurt. "Especially if it was for our mutual benefit." She looked away from the screen as well, adding quietly, "I must have made a fool of myself so many times..."

He quickly pointed out, "I don't believe that is the case.  And I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, it just seemed to me to be well past the point of its usefulness.  You're a commissioned officer; you can date whomever you like. Within regulation." Dominic focused on his hands as he spoke, but shot her a quick glance.  "I never intended to hurt you with all this. The opposite was what I had in mind."

"It does not feel like that, Dominic. I feel deceived," Teelis answered flatly. "And I feel stupid. How could this have been without my seeing it?" She looked down at her lap. "Areinnye would have seen it." Looking at the screen once more, she continued, "I have to go. I have to let her know. Goodbye, Dominic." Without further word, she ended the transmission.

With a raised hand, he nearly screamed, "Teelis, _wait_!"  His words never made it across the circuit, as the screen only displayed the Starfleet Corps of Engineers emblem with the phrase, "transmission ended," across the bottom.

* * *

Leone watched as her mother and her dragooned staff took over the primary conference room on the Intelligence level of the Headquarters building.  When she checked in with her Flag Lieutenant, Lieutenant (jg) Charity Szostak, she was informed that her Monday morning schedule had been cleared following the promotion ceremony.

"That's odd.  Who cleared it?" Leone asked.

Charity replied, "Admiral Nechayev ordered me to postpone all of your meetings until next week, with the exception of the Task Force Vanguard update, which has been pushed to tomorrow afternoon."

Leone nodded.  She stood easy knowing that it was not her mother who had dictated the changes to her schedule.  "Well, then," she said as she eased into her chair, "I guess we have a rare free day, don't we?"

Charity held her PADD against her chest.  "Actually, sir, the admiral asked me to see if you would go over to Starfleet Medical for a series of tests and inoculations..."  She glanced briefly at the small screen. "... in two hours? Doctor Edgars is standing by for you."

"'Inoculations?'" Leone craned her head back as though she smelled something foul.  "They usually don't send you for those unless you're..." It dawned on her. "Oh. I _am_ being reassigned.  To a field position, it would seem."

"You're leaving Headquarters, Admiral?"  Charity's tone betrayed her disappointment.

If Leone picked up on that, she made no indication.  "Given what you've told me, very likely," she sighed.  "I guess I'll wait for the other shoe to drop when I see Admiral Sitak.  Let Doctor Edgars know that I'll be over to see him at whatever time he's expecting me, and send over the reminder about fifteen minutes."

"Aye, sir," Charity touched her PADD to enter her notes.  "And sir, if you'll permit me, I wanted to add my congratulations on your promotion."

Leone smiled.  "Thank you, Charity.  I guess the promotion comes with some new duties."

"About that, sir?"

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if you would be requesting new and additional staff?" Charity kept her eyes on her PADD as she asked the question.

Leone's attention was now on her.  "New and additional?" She snapped her fingers.  "Right, because I now get an operations officer, minimum rank of Commander.  All right, good idea. Start compiling resumes from the pool and let everyone know that I'm looking to fill that role."

"Aye, sir.  Should I also begin locating my replacement?"

"What?  Why would I replace you?"

Charity took a deep breath before answering.  "Admiral, you require a full lieutenant, minimum, for my position.  I'm ranked out."

"Right... well..."  Leone tapped her desktop terminal to call up Charity's service record and her eyes scanned the file until it reached her date of rank.  "Well, it would seem that you're just over three weeks from the minimum time in grade. Write up a promotion order for yourself, and I'll sign it.  I'm sure as hell not letting you get away."

Charity grinned.  "Aye, sir."

"That is, unless you're looking to do something else," Leone added.  "Don't let my selfishness prevent you from another assignment. I'd be happy to write a letter of recommendation for you."

Charity raised a hand to wave off Leone.  "Oh, no, sir. If it's fine by you, I would much rather continue in this position.  I've... I mean, if you'll allow me to speak freely...?"

"Sure."

"I've grown to admire you, Admiral," she continued immediately.  "I thought this was just another job, but I enjoy working with you a great deal."

Leone chuckled.  "And how much of this is brought on by the sudden promotion?"

"None of it, sir."  Charity amended, "I know we had our difficulties at the beginning..."

"Mild way of putting it."

"Yes, sir.  But, I just wanted to let you know how I felt."

Leone leaned back in her chair and gave Charity her full attention.  "I'm genuinely touched by your sentiment, Charity. I've really come to rely on you, and that's why I want you around for as long as possible.  But... I think at some point, you'll need to figure out if all you want out of your career is to serve admirals, or whether you want some 'sea pay' with a starship assignment at some point."

With a slight bow of her head, Charity replied, "Yes, sir."  She assured her, "For now, I'm very happy being on your staff."  She reached into her uniform pocket and pulled out a small package.  "I'm so sorry, but I forgot to deliver this to you. It was dropped off by Commander Elannis' father.  He left it with me early this morning."

"He was here?  He didn't want to see me?"

Charity said nothing, though she opened her mouth.

"Never mind..." Leone replied.  She seized the package and opened it.  It was a black, wooden chess piece. A bishop.  Quickly, she tucked it into the inner pocket of her tunic.  "Very well, _full_ Lieutenant Szostak.  Carry on."

"Thank you, Rear Admiral, _upper half_ , Leone."  Charity smiled as she withdrew to the outer office, leaving Leone alone at her desk.

Leone turned away from the door to stare out of her office window at the Golden Gate Bridge.  With time on her hands, she idly wondered how much longer it would be until someone else occupied the office and enjoyed the same view she had for the last six years.

 

"Good afternoon, Admiral Leone," Fleet Admiral Sitak intoned as he rose from behind his desk.  "May I offer you a seat?"

"Thank you, sir," replied Leone.  She took measured strides to one of the seats.  "I appreciate you taking the time to see me."

Though he was a Vulcan, Sitak's long career in Starfleet began aboard the starship _Repulse_ fifteen years after the turn of the twenty-fourth century.  Since then, he had long accepted the emotionally-driven platitudes offered by his Terran peers, and practiced at the art of responding to them.  "It is I who must thank you for finding time to fit into my schedule today. I apologize for the inconvenience."

Leone shook her head.  "Not at all, sir. I'm at your disposal."

Sitak merely inclined his head in response.  "I have spoken at length with Admiral Nechayev regarding your performance since you were assigned to the Intelligence division a little over five years ago.  She has been very complimentary toward you, and expressed her desire to have you remain as her deputy."

That brought her to some relief.  Maybe she would be staying with Nechayev after all.  The relief was short-lived as she realized that she would have to work together with her mother.  "It's been an honor to work with Admiral Nechayev, sir."

"The most recent business in the Badlands with the former elements of the Maquis, now known as the League of Sovereign Colonies, was carried out most efficiently," he said.

Leone replied quickly, "Sir, all credit goes to Captains Sandhurst and Kircheis, and their respective crews.  As well as Commander Elannis and Commander Lar'ragos' SMT..."

"Of course.  However, in looking at the full OpPlan, you anticipated nearly every variable with an appropriate response to minimize the loss of life," Sitak noted in his gravelly tones.  "You presided over the matter with the logic due a Vulcan."

She did not smile at that, recalling how emotionally vested she had been in Indemnity's outcome.  The work she put in was not driven by logic, but a desire to anticipate every contingency to prevent Kincaid's escape from her.  Leone believed that Nechayev characterized her differently to Sitak when she requested approval for the plan, even though she knew full well that this was a personal mission.  "Admiral, I'd like to set the record straight on that... we did suffer loss of life on that mission, and it was my responsibility."

"I'm aware of the losses, Admiral Leone," Sitak interrupted her.  "I'm also aware of the underlying reason for the mission. However, it was the rare convergence of both professional and personal desires that I presented the plan to President Santiago and he replied with a go order."

Leone's shock surfaced with no attempt to hide it.

Sitak's dispassionate expression prevailed on his features.  "The loss of Commander Elannis to the Intelligence division will be felt for many years to come.  Though she may have been perceived to be a liability by many, I am gratified to know that you were among the minority that saw her as an asset."  He paused. "Are you alright, Admiral?"

She did not realize it, but tears had escaped her eyes to fall across her cheeks.  She wiped at her eyes as she reached into her tunic to pull out the bishop. Leone rubbed it with the fingers of her left hand, and a sudden calm fell over her.  "I apologize, sir. I was overcome with emotion in remembering Commander Elannis."

He nodded slowly, once.  "You served with her for many years," Sitak said matter-of-factly.

"Yes, sir."  She offered a smile.  "If we could perhaps move on to my future with Starfleet...?"

"Very well."  Sitak handed over a PADD.  "Effective immediately, you are separated from Admiral Nechayev's command.  You are transferred to this office as the new Flag Liaison for the Ministry of Defense.  Become familiar with the current situation on Betazed as quickly as possible. You will be undertaking a mission of high political importance."


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

 

NCC-73878 (USS _Indefatigable_ )  
Standard Orbit, Sol III (Earth)  
Stardate 54814.61 (25 October 2377)  
Main Shuttlebay

 

The large cargo shuttle _Stephen Hopkins_ managed to clear the clamshell doors by only a few scant meters before touching down on the expansive deck of the Sovereign-class heavy cruiser.  The ship's flight deck officers held the shuttle in the pattern while they worked to clear off the smaller craft to allow for its arrival. With supplies and personnel being brought aboard from Spacedock and Earth's surface, the shuttlebays aboard _Indefatigable_ worked overtime in order to prepare for their return to Betazed space.

The arrival of larger cargo shuttles was not an unusual occurrence under the circumstances, but _Hopkins_ ' arrival appeared to warrant the ship's commanding and executive officers attendance.

Captain Abigail "Abbie" Atherton stood next to Commander Cyrus Westbrook as they awaited the appearance of a particular officer visiting the ship.  Westbrook kept his hands at the small of his back while scanning the deck's personnel. "Are you sure that a more formal presence isn't required, sir?" he asked his captain.

"Beyond the fact that I know her to be someone who does not stand on ceremony, Commander, she specifically requested that her arrival not be 'made into a thing,'" Abbie answered, only to wince a moment later. "Bugger keeps shifting around. I don't think my lunch is agreeing with the baby."

He frowned slightly.  "With all due respect, sir, I might find that a bit insulting to the flag, regardless.  But, whatever the admiral desires." When the shuttle's twin doors opened to begin offloading, he spotted their VIP and his visual appraisal of her resulted in a soft snort of amusement.  "Informality seems to be the order of the day, doesn't it?"

Admiral Leone stepped down from _Hopkins_ ' smaller hatch on the starboard side.  She chose not to wear the gold-trimmed flag uniform and instead wore the standard uniform of the day, with her boxed admiral's pips displayed on the right side of her neck.  She was joined by a tall and muscular male Vulcan commander and a well-fed female Terran lieutenant, as well as two petty officers carrying a number of bags on an antigrav cart.  The admiral approached Abbie and Westbrook with a wide smile.

"Permission to come aboard, sir?" Leone asked traditionally.

Abbie gave her XO a knowing look, but soon turned her attention to the approaching Admiral. "Permission granted, sir.  Welcome aboard _Indie_."

Leone turned toward her entourage, "My operations officer, Commander Stenik, and I believe you may already know my Flag Lieutenant, Charity Szostak."  She pointed behind them, "These are my yeomen, who will require some assistance in stowing our gear."

"Actually, sir, I've met both your staff officers before." Abbie nodded a greeting to the lieutenant, before giving the Vulcan a smile. "The commander and I attended the Vulcan Science Academy together. It's good to see you again." 

Stenik's expression changed only enough to bow his head slightly from the neck toward Abbie.  He said nothing else, expecting the conversation between the two superior officers to continue.

Abbie turned slightly and added, "May I introduce my executive officer, Commander Cyrus Westbrook?"

Leone reached out to shake his hand, "Ah, yes.  Commander Westbrook, always a pleasure to meet a mustang officer.  I've had the pleasure of serving many years with one, so they tend to hold a special place in my heart."  She began rolling a small object in her other hand as she spoke.

"Thank you, sir. It's an honor to meet you," Westbrook answered, smiling in return. He accepted her proffered hand briefly.  "I will make sure someone assists your yeomen with your gear," he confirmed her previous request.

"I wanted to extend an invitation to you and your staff to join me, Commander Westbrook and Commander Aspinall for dinner tonight in my mess," Abbie continued smoothly.

Charity leaned in to whisper in Leone's direction, to which Leone nodded.  "I'm afraid that some follow-up is required on some Intelligence matters this evening, so if you might consent to a rain check...?"  She gestured with a hand toward the yeomen to follow Westbrook's order.

"Tomorrow evening, sir?" Abbie suggested. "That way, I can also extend an invitation to Colonel Otex, who is not expected until late tonight."

"Yes, of course.  I remember seeing that on the schedule," Leone remarked softly.  "Seems like that works out best for everyone, then. I look forward to it."  She smiled. "I presume we're assigned to deck four?"

"Yes, sir. My chief engineer and his team rearranged the deck for the use of you and your staff. You will find an office for yourself, and the commander, as well as personal quarters for each of you," Abbie revealed quickly and then let her XO take over.

"If you are ready, Admiral," Westbrook said. "I can show you and your staff to your quarters."

* * *

Abbie approached her quarters with a weary frown. The rescheduling of the admiral's dinner had necessitated some shift swapping so that she, Westbrook and Greg would all be able to attend tomorrow night. As a result, Westbrook was essentially pulling a double-shift, so that he could be free tomorrow night. Abbie would have done it herself, but without saying anything, Westbook had looked pointedly at her expanding belly and she knew he was right. In a non-emergency situation, her pulling double-duty was just stupid.

She stepped through the doorway to her quarters and smiled as she smelled that dinner had already been prepared. As much as her husband's solicitousness had annoyed her during her pregnancy, there were times when it was appreciated. Having dinner ready before she got home was one of those times.

Commander Greg Aspinall interrupted his setting of the table to approach his wife with a pleasant expression and gentle peck on her cheek.  "Dinner is served," he said. He moved over to a chair and pulled it out for her, holding out his hand to help her into it if she needed it.

Abbie ignored the hand as usual, settling herself into the seat with a, "Thank you." She looked over the spread, and added, "This looks great. But can you get me a bacon cheeseburger too? Medium rare. With pickles. Lettuce, tomato, mayo, onion and blue cheese and cheddar." 

His smile widened and pulled the cover off of a plate to her right.  "I anticipated and adapted my menu for the cheeseburger craving. I figured if you weren't up to it, I could recycle it."

"I've had one everyday for a month, so that was a pretty safe bet," Abbie admitted, already reaching for it. "Do you want to handle the menu for tomorrow, by the way? I'm liable to order everything if I do it."

He moved into the seat next to her, but did not begin eating.  "I've already had a few ideas on that, so of course I will." Greg's seated posture straightened, and he snapped his fingers.  "I almost forgot," he said rising up. "Juice or something else to drink?"

"Milk," Abbie said, the word muffled and distorted by the food she was chewing.

Greg replicated a pitcher of milk and an iced tea for himself.  He set them on the table, keeping the pitcher within reach of her and pouring the first glass.  As he did so, he moved his glass to his side of the table and sat down. He waited for the first attack wave to be completed before he attempted conversation with Abbie.

It didn't take long for the cheeseburger to be demolished and as Abbie was serving herself the dinner he had actually prepared for them both, she asked, "How was your day? Or at least the parts of it I don't already know about?"

"Once we loaded the rest of our supplies and ran the final inventories for Starfleet, I handed the duty over to Lieutenant Greer and decided to come down here so I could begin putting together your nightly meal," he admitted.  "She understood, and she's coming along as a good assistant division officer. I'd be surprised if she didn't find some berth as a division head soon."

"Well, you can speak to your mother about that, let her know she's ready in your opinion, if you want her to get that berth a little sooner," Abbie noted. "But when she does go, don't go to Govan. I'm trying to make sure his switch to Science sticks."

Greg shook his head.  "I'm not going to my mother for her.  She's earned it in her own right. And I've got my eye on another officer I'm grooming to replace Greer, should it come to that."

"Good. Oh, make sure you include Vulcan dishes tomorrow. I don't recall Stenik eating anything else and, although that may have changed, better to be safe than sorry," Abbie suggested. "I'll have some of the plomeek soup too, so he won't be the only one to eat it."

He asked, "I'm not familiar with Stenik.  Is he one of Kryssie's officers?"

"Her new Operations officer. He was in my class at VSA."

"Kind of a class reunion for everyone," Greg said.  "Did she ask about me at all?"

"Ah, no. She was pretty preoccupied with getting settled on board. That's part of why the dinner was moved to tomorrow night," Abbie temporized, cutting into the salmon steak on her plate.

"Oh," he deflated visibly.  "Well, I'm sure we'll talk tomorrow night.  It'll be great to be on a ship with her again.  I miss those days on _Farragut_."

"You do?" Abbie asked doubtfully. "I thought you liked the captain's quarters better," she teased him.

"I totally do," Greg responded cordially.  "But the time we spent getting to know each other on _Farragut_ , serving with Kryssie and Ariel and everyone... even though we all had our fair share of drama, it was still a hell of a lot of fun."  He added quickly, "Not that this isn't fun, it's just me being nostalgic. I'm really looking forward to seeing her again."

"We..remember things differently. But, you know Greg, the admiral isn't the same person she was when she was captain," Abbie began, before suddenly pointing to the dish of potatoes. "Could you pass that my way please?"

Greg presented the dish with the serving spoon facing toward her.  "What do you mean? I mean, I know she's still in a bad way over Ariel, but I'm sure having the stars beneath her feet will set her at ease.  It always does. Remember when she was relieved and Jay took command? I think you can still see the marks where she was trying to tunnel her way out of there."

"She's more than 'in a bad way', Greg. She's very shaken and she's just spent six years at headquarters, dealing with egos and politics… both of which she doesn't deal with very well. She's not the friendly, relaxed person who was at our wedding."

After she was done piling the potatoes onto her plate, Greg returned the dish back to the table and considered Abbie's words quietly.  He stared down at his empty plate for nearly thirty seconds before finally saying, "I see what you're getting at." He tossed a quick glance toward Abbie's desk to see the ship's time on the small terminal display floating around.  "Do you think maybe she would be up to a quick visit?"

"Honestly, no. She's definitely into 'by appointment only' for now." Abbie reached out a hand to rest on his forearm. "Besides, I thought we could get some chocolate cake and start talking about baby names. I know you've been reading over those name books your mother recommended."

"I, uh... I thought you said that it was too early to be discussing names," Greg's tone betrayed his suspicions.  "If you don't want me to go over there, I won't. You don't have to play games with me. You've been the captain of every room I've been in for quite some time, now," he added warmly.

"Well, I really wanted to watch the game, since we're local, but I figured if we were talking names while I was watching, you wouldn't hate it so much. Also, there's cake," Abbie explained with a smile.

"There is cake," Greg said, heavily considering that fact.  "All right, you've sold me. Hockey and cake, it is. But, on one condition."

"No, the cake must be chocolate. With dark chocolate icing."

"Okay, hockey and _two_ cakes," he conceded.  "Because I think dark chocolate is a sin against taste buds and you know it."

"Deal. You get the cake while I queue up the game?"

* * *

Andrea Eleanor Vandeven reached up with her right hand to touch at the strawberry blonde strands that grazed her left cheek.  Her service as a Starfleet Marine officer required her medium-length hair to be restrained in a dancer's bun, but her lengthy bangs escaped their prison on the left side without fail.  She made a mental note to fix it once more, then hoisted her gear bag atop the antigrav unit aboard the Danube-class runabout USS _Snake_ as the rest of her marine detachment got in line to exit the craft and onto _Indefatigable_ 's shuttle deck.  

"Fall in, people," she ordered softly. While the detachment's non-commissioned officers echoed the order to their squads immediately, she stepped aside to permit the senior marine officer, Colonel Andrus Otex, to egress and inspect the lines if it was his desire to do so.

By the time the colonel stepped down onto the deck, the marines snapped to attention in their proper formation before the field grade officer.  "Sir," said First Lieutenant Vandeven in her soft alto tone, "Special Detachment Fourteen stands ready for inspection."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Andrus replied.  He raised his hand toward her. "You may set your people at rest."

"Parade rest," she ordered.  The assembled marines adjusted their stance.

The colonel stood before them, just in front of Lieutenant Vandeven and spoke, "Marines, in less than a day, this ship will depart for the planet Betazed.  According to Starfleet, your mission will be to garrison on the planet to provide... _adequate_ defense.  This 'special detachment' that you have volunteered for shall be the first marines to set foot within the rebuilt facility since it was destroyed during the Battle of Betazed during the Dominion War."

He took another step forward.  "On a personal note, I would like to thank each of you for working hard to defend my homeworld."  Andrus snapped his head toward Vandeven. "Lieutenant, you will proceed to quarters."

The ship's Efrosian security chief, Lieutenant Commander Eritan Ra-Gomelmora, stood and watched the entire proceeding since the runabout arrived.  He stepped over to join the other officers. "Colonel, we've set aside quarters on deck twenty-one."

"Thank you, Commander," Andrus said.  "Carry on, Lieutenant."

"Aye, aye, sir!"  Vandeven called out, "Detachment Fourteen, right-face!  By twos, forward-march!"

Ra-Gomelmora's snow-white hair brushed against the top of his gold-turtlenecked uniform as he and the colonel waited for the detachment to march out of the shuttle bay.  "Do you really think a light company is going to be enough to defend an entire planet, sir?"

Andrus grumbled.  "Hardly."

The security chief produced a PADD and changed the subject.  "By your request, I have set up a rotation for your marines to use the ship's entertainment facilities, and I've also blocked off time for their physical training."

"They're not _my_ marines, Commander," Andrus snarled, allowing his frustrated to show.  He exhaled. "Sorry, that was out of line. I appreciate you seeing to all that."  With a sigh, he asked, "I assume Admiral Leone is ensconced within her VIP suite?"

"Yes, Colonel, she and her staff are housed on deck four," responded Ra-Gomelmora.  "We have you in the senior officer's level on deck nine, section bravo. Shall I guide you there?"

Andrus shook his head.  "Negative, Commander. I know the way.  I won't keep you any longer." Without another word, he left the shuttle bay, leaving Ra-Gomelmora behind.

* * *

Rather than head to his assigned quarters, Andrus found himself entering the ship's lounge. As spacious as the old Ten-Forwards on the Galaxy-class ships, it had the same stunning view and civilian personnel to give crewmembers a chance relax while onboard. However, with the ship still in port, the lounge was not nearly as crowded as it would be at this time of evening. 

That made it easier for the marine to spot Admiral Leone sitting at a small table near the viewport, gazing at the moon which was so visible from their vantage in orbit of the planet. Of course, her brooding about her fallen friend made it as easy for him to pick her thoughts out of the sparse crowd. Without even really thinking about it, he approached her table and asked, "Admiral. Would you mind some company this evening?"

Leone turned her head to look at him, but her eyes seemed to stare behind him rather than at him.  Quickly, she focused on his features and wore a grin. "Colonel, it's good to see you again." She gestured with an open hand toward the seat opposite her.  "Please."

"Thank you, Admiral." Andrus took the seat opposite from her, then nodded to her drink, which appeared untouched. "What are you drinking? Or ignoring, as it were?" he asked with a half-smile.

Her eyes dropped to the table.  "Oh, uh... I think it was tea before the ice melted.  Shall I ask one of the waitstaff to come over?" She raised a hand to call attention to their table.

"No, that's all right. Despite my appearance here, I actually don't feel much like drinking. Or eating," Andrus replied blandly. "Maybe because I over-indulged at the wedding, but I was helpless before the menu my sister picked out."

The waiter approached the table on the admiral's gesture.  She ordered, "I'm going to need a fresh glass of iced tea, and why don't you bring the colonel a glass of iced water?"  After they were left alone, she remarked, "It was a beautiful wedding. I'm sure they're enjoying their honeymoon, still.  Have you heard from them, yet?"

"No. I gave them strict orders not to contact anyone unless it was an emergency. They deserve some time without distractions," Andrus mentioned, his mouth quirking again. "Govan's watching over Jacob, even if May wasn't around, they both have leave time... there's no reason to be in touch."

"Speaking of Govan, I understand that he'll be coming aboard to join _Indie_ 's crew once his leave is up," Leone said.  "After spending all that time as captain of that Defiant-class ship, I'm sure he'll fit in as the new chief of science for Captain Atherton.  She's one of the best shiphandlers in the fleet." When their drinks arrived, she thanked the waiter before he returned to the lounge's bar.

"I know. I've seen her senior staff list. Do you know the background of Commander Westbrook at all? I doubt he'll be a Commander for more than another year," Andrus commented. "If I'm reading the signs right, that is."

Leone replied with a quick nod.  "I'm certain that he'll be sitting in command of a ship in that time.  Perhaps, by then, Govan might be asked to step in as executive officer.  He has the experience, for sure."

"But not the time in grade necessary to be a commander, and so he can't be the XO on a Sovereign-class. That said, I wouldn't be surprised if Abbie isn't grooming him for something. She has a way of..." He paused, then chuckled. "The words aren't right. They don't translate very well from Betazoid, but basically, she's adept at evaluating people and putting them in the right place, for herself and for them."

She leaned her head against the viewport, wearing a small smile.  "I remember putting together my senior staff when I accepted command of _Farragut_."  Leone rolled a small bishop between her fingers suddenly, then went silent for a more than sixty seconds before she returned her attention back to Andrus.  "Sorry about that. I was lost in a bit of... nostalgia. It's a little humbling to see my former subordinates coming into their own right. Sometimes, I miss those days back on that ship."

"I know you expected others things, at this point," Andrus replied kindly, mindful that her thoughts were almost all of her former operations chief. "But they are doing well. Abbie with her ship, Jesse I hear is to be posted at the Tactical School. Captain Herrera is enjoying his role at Utopia Planitia. Even my sister has quite the position at Starfleet Medical. Which is good, because she and her new husband are planning a brood, so their respective postings will be easier on the children."

Leone leaned forward to reach for her tea.  "Can't forget this again, can I?" After a quick sip, she added, "Don't forget Greg.  And Wilson."

"Even your former doctor. Isira keeps in touch, and says that Sovera is doing well on that Vulcan colony, raising her son." He chuckled, picking up his glass of water. "Apparently she was approached about a possible betrothal for the boy. She politely declined. That is a feature of both Vulcan and Betazoid culture that needs to fade away."

She offered a neutral perspective: "Far be it for me to say one way or the other, Colonel.  I'm neither Betazoid nor Vulcan." Leone hid behind the perspiring glass briefly. "I am looking forward to spending time on Betazed, however."

"You'll find it much different than you remember, Admiral," Andrus warned, his tone turning dark. "So many dead, so many left scarred, so many angry. It's why they've formed their own militia."

"On that point, I can assure you that Starfleet will be getting involved," Leone set her glass back down on the table.  The bishop spun in her fingers once more. "This sector has been without a proper presence for too long. Once I make my full assessment, I'm certain that we'll have no choice but to ensure a strong defense for Betazed."

"Frankly, sir, Betazed should always have had a strong defense, and it is that attitude you will find when you come to my homeworld. The war has been over for as long as it existed, and still the system is without sufficient defense. You are just another uniform telling them not to worry, and that is not enough, sir," Andrus denied with a shake of his head. He didn't add his other concern; she was preoccupied with the death of her friend and could only speak in generalities about the conversation at hand. In discussions with telepaths, her thoughts were actually insulting, especially given the gravity of the situation she was being sent to remedy.

Leone sighed deeply, her eyes drifting away from the colonel and back out at the view.  "I can't really speak to what happened in the past, because my duties laid elsewhere within the Federation."  She crossed her legs, right over left, then used the right knee to rest her left elbow upon as she leaned forward.  She fixed him with a much less friendly gaze than before, though it could not be described as hostile in the slightest.  "I greatly appreciate the position of the Betazoid government in all this, and I understand how frustrating it must be to endure the apparent lack of defensive support from Starfleet, when other member worlds were quick to receive it... Earth, included."

As she reached for her glass, Andrus noticed the slight tremble of her hand as she did so.  He gave her a stony expression as she continued to put up an indignant display before him and let her continue to speak.

"Having said that, all I can do at this time is see to my mission to the best of my ability."  Leone locked eyes with him and for the first time since he sat down, her words and her thoughts were as one.  "Any specific advice you wish to impart to me, Colonel, will be most appreciated."

"Regarding military deployments, or just generally, sir?" Andrus asked cautiously.  

"Generally," she replied.  Her focus continued to be on entirely on the conversation.  She placed the wooden bishop atop the table for the first time since she'd arrived aboard the ship.  "I don't need to remind you that we're the ranking officers on this mission. I intend to execute the mission with proper support; that include having a very knowledgeable resource on the subject within arm's reach at all times.  You have considerably more of an interest in seeing this succeed."

"Absolutely, sir. I've been in contact with the Betazoid government, and I have the resources of the Corps as well to assist in securing the zone," Andrus agreed readily. 

Leone replied, "Excellent.  Let's make sure to discuss that when the hour isn't so late.  We have plenty of time before we arrive to formulate a plan and put it into motion."

"Of course, sir. I'm at your disposal," the colonel responded. Acknowledging the dismissal in her tone and her thoughts, he got to his feet. "Have a good evening, Admiral."

Andrus walked toward the exit and paused long enough to see that Leone had picked up the bishop in her hand and closed her fist around it.  He sensed her thoughts returning to her fallen friend and in response, his own hopes for the success of the mission dimmed.


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

 

NCC-76781 (USS _Adamant_ )  
Docking Bay 94, Spacedock, Sol III  
Stardate 54814.66 (25 October 2377)  
Deck Five, Corridor Five-Bravo-One

 

"Dom, wait up!" called a voice from the lift doors behind him.  Its owner trotted along until he came abreast of his quarry and smiled.  "So. I'm thinking the party has to start at The Blue."

Dominic grinned. "I think that's a great idea, Randy, but really, we've got a few years before we have to plan the bachelor party. Ilya and Zoe can't get married until they are both full Lieutenants, otherwise their career prospects won't be as good." Although technically anyone could be married at any time while serving in Starfleet, there was an internal stigma about marrying before achieving the second full pip. Only those who were married prior to becoming officers seemed exempt.

"In order to be truly epic, a bachelor party needs to be planned years in advance. Of course, we all thought you and Teelis would be the first to make it official, but Ilya beat you to it."

"Yeah, well, it's not quite like that between Teelis and I. We aren't really together..." Dominic admitted slowly, eyeing his friend sidelong to gauge his reaction.

"Yeah, okay. Right. In four years at the Academy, you lied and you're the only person she touched without it being required to in martial arts classes, but 'you're not together'. Sure." Randy grinned at his friend. "What, is she not allowed to marry until she's forty or something?"

"No, I mean it, Randy. We aren't together. As in, not together. We're just friends."

The operations officer seemed dumbfounded. "You broke up?! Why, what happened?"

"It's not..." Dominic shook his head. "It's complicated," he finally said, unable to fully explain exactly what had transpired.

"Are you okay?" Randy wondered, honestly concerned. "You were... are... you know, really in love with her." As soon as Ilya had figured out that particular tidbit, he had wasted no time in letting their friends know.

Dominic opened his mouth to answer, but said nothing.  He offered little more than a shy smile and shrugged, as if to say, "What're you going to do?"

Randy sighed.  "Listen, if you need to talk about it..."

"I know," Dominic replied quickly.  "For now, there's just nothing to be done-"

"Lieutenant Leone, please report to the bridge," called the intercom.

"-except to report to the bridge."  Dominic tapped his combadge. "Leone, here.  I'm on my way."

* * *

Twice in one week, Dominic found himself materializing onto the transporter pad within Starfleet Headquarters.  The receiving station officer waved him through the security checkpoint and he entered the turbolift toward the Intelligence level.

His arrival on _Adamant_ 's bridge led to an incoming message requiring his presence within his mother's office, though the message quoted the office number rather than stating who he would be seeing.  Once again, the executive officer excused him from duty and made a snide remark about the influence of the Admiralty. Though it had been in jest, Dominic hid his displeasure behind a wan smile and a weak chuckle before beaming down.

Dominic arrived on the proper level and stepped down toward the outer office as though on autopilot.  He put on a cheery smile for Charity and began his greeting, "Good morning, Loo-" He stopped himself as a barrel-chested lieutenant sat at her desk.  "You're not Charity."

"No, I'm not.  Can I help you?" replied the man.

"I'm sorry.  I'm here to see Admiral Leone," Dominic replied.   "I'm Dominic Leone. She's expecting me?"

"One moment, please."  He gestured to the couch.  "Please help yourself to a seat."  As Dominic did so, the lieutenant disappeared into the inner office briefly before poking his head out.  "The admiral will see you now, Lieutenant."

Dominic entered, passing by the man and was again greeted by surprise when the family member behind the desk was not the one he expected.  "Grandma?"

Vice Admiral Angelina Leone gave her grandson a toothy smile.  "I'm so glad you could make it, Dom." She shot a look at the other lieutenant and said icily, "That will be all, Arthur."

"Aye, sir," the lieutenant named Arthur snapped to attention before retreating.

"Grandma, what're you doing here?  I thought this was Mom's office." Dominic did nothing to hide his confusion.  "Where is she?"

Angelina moved to the new couch and reception area where his mother's bookshelves once stood.  "Your mother's been reassigned to as the liaison to the Ministry of Defense. She should be aboard _Indefatigable_ by now, I should think."

Dominic looked down toward his hands, unsure of whether he was more irritated by his grandmother's nonchalance or the fact that his mother said nothing to him.  "I see... and now why you're here?"

"My commission was reactivated and I've been assigned as the special adjutant to the Chief of Starfleet Intelligence," Angelina said candidly.  "Would you like some hot tea?"

He suddenly felt his throat dry up.  "Uh, iced tea, actually."

She smiled.  "Just like your mother.  She never liked it hot, either," Angeline said as she placed the order.  She set the replicated tray down on the small coffee table and set out his tea.  "Now, I'm sure you're wondering if I called you down here so I could update you on what's going on..."

He took a deep quaff from the tea and nodded.  "Yes, sir."

"I've spoken with Personnel and within the week, I will be sending orders up to your captain to have you transferred to my staff," she said, holding her teacup and saucer.  "I'd like for you to be my new Flag Lieutenant, replacing Arthur out there."

"I... I don't think that that would be a good idea, grandma," Dominic heard himself saying.  He felt light-headed when she told him, and the situation turned surreal. "I'd prefer to remain aboard _Adamant_ , if it's all the same to you."

Angelina's good humor disappeared entirely.  "I am happy to see that you have such loyalty to your ship and captain.  It speaks highly of them. However, I must insist. Orders will be cut later today and I expect you to report for duty no later than Friday morning."

"Why?"

Her eyes narrowed.  "I don't believe I heard you correctly, Lieutenant."

Dominic straightened in his seat and set his glass down upon the table.  "Pardon me, sir. May I know the reason for this order, sir?"

Angelina rose from her chair to carry her teacup to her desk.  "I believe that it is within the best interests of your career that you serve for a time on Headquarters staff.  The experience here will afford you insight into how to be a proper admiral later on."

Dominic rose as she did, out of respect.  "Sir, I already received the value of such a posting when I served my internship as a midshipman at Headquarters," he was quick to point out.

"There's a difference between being an intern here and being an officer with full rank in this building. Besides, you weren't assigned to an admiral in the Intelligence Section. You'll learn more here, now, then you possibly could have then."

"Sir, with respect, I strongly urge you to reconsider."

"Nonsense," she dismissed him with a wave of her hand.  "BuPers will be transmitting the order this afternoon. Your captain will have no choice, and neither will you."

Again, with that near out-of-body quality, he heard himself telling her, "Admiral, I regret to inform you that I intend to do everything within my power to countermand your order."

She set her teacup down on the desk and sat down behind it.  "You will refuse my order?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then you will be brought up on charges of insubordination, possibly dereliction.  Is that what you want?" Angelina's jaw set after her last sentence.

"Is that what _you_ want?"

Angelina demanded sternly, "Where is this coming from?  Is it that Romulan girl? Is she influencing you?"

Dominic spat.  "Leave Teelis out of this!"

"Watch your tone with me, young man."

"No," he said, barely aware of the danger his career was in.  "I'm sorry, sir, but this is my decision. I will not be reporting in on Friday morning, and I strongly urge you to rescind your order."

Angelina stared at him, but he refused to back down.  Finally, she broke eye contact to check her desktop terminal.  "Dominic, I will not be rescinding that order. It will be a matter of record, and your captain is bound to obey orders.  As are you, _Lieutenant_."

He clenched his hands together tightly behind him.  "I am _not_ my mother, sir.  Do not assume that I will stand here and let you meddle in my career."  Dominic made for the door, not bothering to request her permission to leave.

She called to him, "This is not over."

He paused only to reply, "Count on it, Admiral."

* * *

Abbie rang the chime for the Admiral's private quarters on _Indie_ , then tugged down on her tunic. It had become a habit since she had switched to the full tunic given to the pregnant; she just could not become used to the different lines after wearing the more typical uniform of the day for so long.

The doors slid open to reveal Charity holding a PADD in her right hand.  "Captain," she said, surprised. "Please come in." The lieutenant stepped aside to give Abbie room to get by.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Abbie responded cordially as she navigated her bulk into the stateroom. "How have you been finding the accommodations?" she wondered.

Charity offered a seat.  "I'm just happy this isn't a closet in some junior officers' bunk someplace."  She gestured toward the replicator. "Can I offer you something, sir?"

"No, thank you, Lieutenant," she replied easily. "Fortunately, _Indie_ is large enough to give actual rooms to our guests." Glancing about the suite, she continued. "Is the Admiral available?"

As she cast a nervous glance toward the door leading into the bedroom, Charity forced a smile and kept her stammering to a minimum.  "She's here, but I'm not sure if she's... in the mood to receive visitors. I'll go and see for you, sir."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Abbie nearly repeated herself, watching the junior officer expectantly. As she waited, she continued to stand.

Within a few minutes, both Charity and Leone entered the living area.  Leone's eyes and face appeared to be puffy and red, while Charity moved silently toward the exit to leave.  Once alone, the admiral asked, "How can I help you, Captain?"

"I just wanted to check in with you, sir, to make sure that you and your staff have everything you need before we get underway," Abbie explained, a smile coming to her face as she pointedly ignored the signs of recent crying.

Leone moved toward her desk as she spoke.  "I think we're settled in fairly well, thank you."  She replaced a small bishop on the desk's surface and turned around, blocking it from view.  "I don't think we could ask for anything more from you. I think they should have every ship carry an admiral like this."

"I'll pass that compliment onto my staff, then, sir. I'm glad you're finding the suite to your liking." Abbie carefully maneuvered herself to stand in front of the desk. "And you, sir? I know we did not really get a chance to speak since the funeral, given the whirlwind of events, but I wanted to inquire about you as a junior officer to her former captain."

Leone laughed softly to herself while her gaze dropped to the deck.  "I suppose I should have known better than to pretend with you, Abbie."  She pushed away from the desk and approached the replicator. "I'm... better than I was before.  It hasn't been an easy time for me, lately."

"Of course not, sir," Abbie answered with sympathy. "It never is when the people close to us pass away. But even more so when it is unexpected. Is there anything I can do? Or perhaps you'd like to speak with one of our counselors while you're aboard? They all have extensive experience with grief counseling." The Dominion War had given most of the counselors in the service more experience than they could have ever wanted.

The mention of a counselor brought a visible bristle to Leone's stance.  "No," she said quickly. She sighed suddenly and smiled. "I mean, thank you for your kind offer.  I'll... consider it."

Abbie saw the lie for what it was, but chose not to challenge the Admiral at the moment. Still, she was troubled by the seeming indecisiveness of the woman in her actions and words. In all the years she had known Leone, she would have never used the word "indecisive" before today. "Yes, sir," she replied with a nod. "Of course, if you'd ever like to just speak to me, or even Greg, you know we're here for you, sir."

Leone closed her eyes at the offer, her cheeks coloring at the attention.  "I appreciate that. I really do... but, I don't want to impose on you like that.  Even though I know Greg wouldn't hesitate. I'm..." She paused, as though she were catching her breath.  Her watery eyes opened and she said honestly, "I'm just not ready, yet. And I don't know when I will be."

"When you are, the offer will still be open, sir." Although she could tell this was, finally, a real answer, Abbie was still concerned that so many weeks after Commander Elannis' death, the admiral was unable to discuss it. "The dinner has been scheduled for 1930 hours, sir, if that is acceptable to you," she added, to change the subject.

The admiral nodded.  "Please let Charity know?"

"Of course, sir." Abbie's chin lifted slightly, waiting for the dismissal she knew was about to come.

"I'll see you then," Leone said finally.

Abbie inclined her head in acknowledgement and walked into the corridor. Given what she had just seen, she made a decision to stop by the quarters of Commander Stenik. It was time to ask the admiral's newest staff officer of his opinion of his new boss.

* * *

Dominic did not take the time to acknowledge the transporter petty officer who greeted him upon his return to _Adamant_.  Though he knew he would need to report to the bridge for his duty shift within the hour, he sought the relative comfort of his quarters until then.  He wanted to scream once he entered, feeling his career and his life spinning out of his control.

The chime at the door rescued him from the depressing spiral of this thoughts. It also interrupted his frenetic pacing as he turned to answer the door.

"I heard you were back," said Randy, explaining his presence with a shrug.

Dominic snapped at him, unleashing his irritation, "No kidding."  When his friend blanched at the rebuke, he let out a held breath and shook his head.  "I'm sorry."

Randy dismissed his apology with a quick gesture and asked, "Want to talk about it?"

"What's to talk about? It won't change the fact that my grandmother's commission was reactivated, for all of a couple of days, and she's already interfering in my career. I don't exactly have the rank to go toe-to-toe with a Vice Admiral." Dominic still waved his friend into his quarters and he asked out of habit, "Do you want anything from the replicator?"

"Sounds like you need something stronger than whatever the replicator can provide," Randy said.  "And I'm sorry today's not going well for you. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, but thanks for offering." Dominic stalked back over to one of seats and flopped into it with a huff. "These have probably been the worst few weeks of my life, except for the wedding. That was fun," he acknowledged. "Once I got away from my family."

Without asking, Randy took his customary seat at the small dining table and rested his arm atop it.  "I don't know how I would handle my mother involving herself that deeply in my career. I can't imagine how frustrating it must be right now."

"What's really frustrating is that my mother actually can't help in this situation, with my grandmother, because she's so cowed by her all the time. My mother, the newly minted Rear Admiral, still blanches when Grandma says 'boo' to her. The woman didn't even raise her." Dominic sighed, then shook his head. "Everyone always imagined the Rihannsu to be these cold, calculating people who would do anything to advance, but I gotta say, that sounds more like my grandmother than any Rihannsu I've ever met."

Randy grinned.  "Want to switch families?"

"Yeah, just maybe with someone whose mother wasn't a Starfleet captain?" Dominic suggested, finally giving his friend a half-smile.

"Sorry, can't help you there.  But at least _Admiral_ Duke has the good sense to stay retired," Randy ribbed gently.  "She's enjoying the quiet life on Pacifica."

"Good for her. My grandmother couldn't stay retired. I should tell her she's a quitter," Dominic groused, then rubbed his face with his hand. "I need to calm down before my shift; I can't go to the bridge like this."

"You'll get there, I'm sure," Randy answered. "I don't want to ask what exactly your grandmother did, but I know from your reaction it was probably something what you don't want to do. I know you said your mother hasn't really stood up to your grandmother before, but would it really be so bad to get her involved? I mean, she's a two-star admiral, now."

Dominic had a response on the tip of his tongue, but he stopped to consider what he was about to say.  He clasped his hands together and stared at them as he sounded his thoughts aloud. "Let's forget about the fact that she's had her life shattered because of what happened to Ariel.  I mean... I must admit even I'm still taken aback by all that. I can't possibly ask her to confront the one person who has meant the entire universe to her for all her life. She's... it's like she was raised to revere my grandmother as though she were a living legend."

Randy sat back in his chair, waiting for his friend to continue his thoughts.

"Even I was raised that way.  My grandmother would constantly tell me about how much of a hero my mother was when I was a child," Dominic said. "And then I went to live with her, in a way my mother never did with her mother, and I realized she was just a person. Great captain." He took a breath, as if it pained him to admit it. "But she's a lousy mother," he concluded with resignation. "And so is my grandmother."

"Dom..." Randy whispered.  "You don't mean that."

"No, I really do. All I can say is that I know what a real parent does; how they talk to their children and how they treat them. Neither my mother nor my grandmother comes even close to that. My only real parent is my grandfather, to be perfectly honest. I'm not even mad at them anymore. I'm just… kind of relieved I don't have siblings, so they don't have to go through this." Dominic shrugged a shoulder. "I'm not the only kid in the quadrant with a crappy family, Randy. It's just mine happen to have flag ranks."

"I know she's not exactly talking to you right now, but have you ever talked to Teelis about all this?"

Dominic gave a short laugh. "Yes and no. I mean, she knows how I feel about my family, but I don't know how much she can really understand, because her family is so close-knit. They are almost the anti-Leones, really, except they have a long history of military service, too."

"Then why don't you talk to her about this? I know that you guys are broken up and you might not be talking, but I know you both. I'm sure you're still friends and you always talked to her about your issues before."

Dominic acknowledged that with a slow nod. "Yeah, that's true. I mean, since we were fourteen, really," he admitted. "But things are fairly awkward between us now."  His gaze drifted towards the viewport. "I'll think about it," he decided.

"Good," Randy answered.

* * *

Although he had been to the surface quite a bit in the past few days, Dominic still received his twelve hour leave pass as scheduled that evening. He had pre-arranged to meet Lieutenant Commander Govan Harli at a Thai restaurant, but when he called to confirm, Govan had asked him to pick up take-out and meet him at his sister's home.

Laden with a heavy bag of food, Dominic peered inside of it curiously while he waited for his friend to answer the door. When he heard the door open, he said, "I hope you ordered spring rolls."

Govan chuckled, waving the younger officer inside. "You know I did, Dom. Come in, I just fished out some cold beers, the real kind."

Dominic grinned in return as he stepped into the home. "By the looks of you, you need it as much as I do. Is that paint?" he wondered, eyeing the multiple smears and spatters on the Betazoid's clothing.

"It is," Govan replied cheerfully. "My wedding gift is getting a nursery ready for them. Here, I'll show you." He carefully devested his friend of the food and placed it on the dining room table before leading him back to a nearly-finished room.  "I've only got a few more of the animals to do and then it'll be complete."

"Whoa." It was the only thing Dominic could say once he got a look at the aquatic life mural that spanned the entire room. In it, various sea creatures moved through the water, though he had left a horizon on the water line encircle the room near the ceiling. Dominic could even see a boat, as if in the distance, on what was apparently a sunny day.

He moved closer to the wall, peering carefully at the paint. "Did you include a color gradient?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes. It's darker as as it goes closer to the floor. Because it is darker, the farther down you go in the ocean," Govan confirmed proudly.

"That is very imaginative.  I think my father settled for Starfleet toupe for my walls when I was a kid," admitted Dominic with a small smile.  "I'm sure their kid will love it."

Govan led Dominic back toward the living room.  "Let's eat. I'm starved." He did not hesitate to reach into the bag and began laying out the various dishes.  He kept an eye on his friend nearly the entire time, until he folded up the bag to place it within the recycler.

"So, no Jacob?" Dominic asked as he grabbed for a set of a chopsticks.

"Sleeping over at the twins' tonight; he'll be back in the morning."

Dominic poked at his food with the unwrapped stick briefly.  "Oh," was all he said. "Are you, uh... enjoying your leave?"

Govan did nothing to hide his amusement.  "Really? You asked me about my leave at the wedding."  He took a seat next to Dominic and asked, "What happened?"

Dominic outlined the events of the day to Govan, who listened quietly.  He ended his recitation with a simple, "And now I can't even talk to her about it.  She won't take my calls."

"Maybe you should try again. Since that was a couple of days ago, and not immediately after your last conversation," Govan pointed out. He took a bite of the spicy beef salad, then rolled his eyes. "This is so good...," he mumbled around the food in his mouth.

He eyed his food again, picking at it with the clenched stick and took a bite.  "I don't know," Dominic said with a single shake of his head. "You didn't see how upset she was with me.  I've never seen her that upset... ever." He reached for a container of sauce and poured it over the contents of his bowl.

Govan took a sip of his beer and quirked a brow. "Did she cry?" he asked bluntly.

"No..."

"Then you've seen her more upset than that. You have enough things to worry about, Dom.  Don't make this into a problem that it isn't."

"The phrase is, 'Don't go borrowing trouble'," Dominic felt compelled to point out.

"I know what the phrase is; I just chose my own words," Govan chuckled.

"I don't think that's what I'm doing here. She was..."

"Pissed off at herself?" Govan suggested. "You basically told her that you perpetrated a lie all around her and she didn't notice. That's very embarrassing for her. Of course, she's young and wasn't looking for something like that. But you know she's hard on herself."

Dominic nodded.  "She is, but this was... I don't know.  Maybe I'm projecting or something. Having her find out didn't make me feel good about myself, either."

"Just try talking to her. I don't think she'll ignore the call."

"All right... I'll give it another try tomorrow."  Dominic looked at Govan. "What about my other thing?"

"Your grandmother? She's not going to issue an order she knows you will refuse. Not to mention, she clearly doesn't realize the negative implications to your career if you go to work for her as her flag lieutenant. You're in Tactical; you need to be out at a post."

Dominic finished with his noodles and set his bowl down.  "I think she's counting on my being an officer and obeying orders."

"I think your family is a little too wrapped up in Starfleet, Dom," Govan observed. "You wear the uniform but _they_ act like it wears you. Just stand up for yourself. She's not going to damage your career over this."

"'A little too wrapped up?'  My family _is_ Starfleet.  Well, except for my grandpa."

"No, that's exactly my point. Your grandfather is the only one who did it right. He put his life and his family before service. Doing it the other way around, and you get your grandmother."

"So, I should go ask my grandpa to talk to my grandma?"

"Would she listen to him?"

Dominic considered that question with a stare off to the side.  Would she? "I... honestly don't know that answer to that. I did live with them for years, but in all that time, I don't think I ever really saw them doing anything but just...  I don't know how to describe it... he would just hold her."

"Sounds like he wouldn't challenge her decision. What about your mother?"

The mention of his mother put his troubles out of his mind briefly.  "I had been meaning to ask you about her, actually. Did you get to talk to her at the wedding?"

"Briefly," Govan allowed.

"What did you think?"

"I'm really not comfortable talking about that with you, anymore than I was comfortable talking to her about you," Govan replied honestly. "And before you ask, yes, she asked, and no, I did not tell her anything."

Dominic frowned.  "Sorry. I just... she won't let me in sometimes.  It's frustrating to watch her put on this face like everything is alright when it really isn't."  He cast a quick glance toward Govan. "Just... can you tell me if she's in pain?"

"You already know the answer to that question, Dom," Govan answered, setting down his chopsticks.

"Fine.  But that's why I can't ask her."

"Then you'll just have to talk to Teelis," Govan concluded.

Dominic winced at the sudden turnaround from his friend.  "Nicely done..."


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

NCC-73878 (USS _Indefatigable_ )  
Warp 5.5, en route to the Beta Zeta system.  
Stardate 54815.95 (25 October 2377)  
Captain's Mess (Deck Four)

 

"I tried to include some Vulcan as well as vegetarian dishes in the menu, Commander," Greg informed Stenik solicitously as the officers seated themselves in the Captain's Mess that evening for dinner. 

"Thank you, Commander," Stenik replied graciously. "That was quite thoughtful."  His eyes casually scanned the contents of the table.

"You can call me Greg," the operations officer answered easily. 

"Thank you for inviting me to this dinner, Captain," Andrus added for Abbie's benefit. 

"Of course, Colonel. It's like a small reunion, really," Abbie agreed, only to nod her thanks as a yeoman set down her nightly cheeseburger in front of her. "Thank you, Marin."

Leone sat at the opposite end of the table from Abbie.  She smiled at the hosting couple and said, "This is an impressive spread, Greg."  She leaned over to pick up the pitcher and poured herself a glass of water. "I'm sure Abbie appreciates a good cook, especially now."

"It's not like I was a shy eater before," Abbie scoffed cheerfully.

"Her appetite was remarked upon even when she attended the Vulcan Science Academy," Stenik noted, to the surprise of most at the table. 

"Well, as I am now, I was still growing at the time," Abbie remarked with a chuckle.

"I don't think you eat all that much, comparatively speaking, Captain," Westbrook noted with a half-smile. "My wife had a similar appetite at this stage as well. As long as you have names worked out before the baby comes, Medical takes care of the rest."

"You didn't have a name picked out when your daughter was born?" Greg wondered.

"You haven't heard this story?" Westbrook responded. "No, Halli and I had this ongoing argument about names, for girls, that is," he clarified for the other guests. "I did not want a name for our daughter which ended in a vowel, which is the most common type of female name on Earth. Halli was adamant that the name be lyrical." The way he pronounced the word gave no doubt as to his opinion on the subject. "When our daughter was born, we still couldn't agree. A week later, she still didn't have a name when we overheard one of the nurses in sickbay - we went in for a one week check-up - she called her the 'Wednesday baby', since that was the day of the week she was born. We both actually liked the sound of that, and for lack of a better alternative, we named her Wednesday."

"But she's called Wendy, which is a more typical name for a girl," Abbie concluded. "I think it's a great name. It's not common, but not so unusual as to be thought of as odd.."

"But it ends in a vowel," Greg pointed out.

"Why is only sometimes a vowel, and in this instance, I don't think it is," Westbrook stated firmly.

Andrus chuckled. "And where is your daughter now, Commander?" he inquired.

"Daystrom Institute. She's got her mother's mind, and it needed more activity than high school could normally afford," Westbrook answered proudly.

Greg softly touched Abbie's hand to get her attention, and when their eyes met, he nodded in Leone's direction.  The admiral had taken to looking at her hands rather than engaging in the conversation; her expression trembling slightly.

"If anyone would like to order something 'off-menu', as it were," Abbie interjected. "Please, feel free. I know I did," she added, gesturing to the remains of her burger. "I know we can't exactly make the famous Leone garlic bread, Admiral, but we can give it a good try if you'd like to compliment a pasta dish," she suggested.

Leone looked up suddenly, a blush settling upon her cheeks at the attention.  "Uh, no... thank you, though. This is all very nicely done, I wouldn't change a thing."  She rose from her seat. "Do you mind if I use the head?"

"Of course not, sir," Abbie replied, glancing briefly at Andrus.

The admiral surreptitiously stowed something into the inside of her uniform's jacket and smiled at the gathering before making her way to the small corridor that led to the head and the galley access hatch.

"Never thought I'd see an admiral ask permission to use the head," Westbrook murmured, once Leone was out of earshot. "You were right, Captain; she's not your typical flag officer."

Greg replied, "Oh, Kryssie has always done things her own way, even when we were kids.  But I think recent events have had an impact on her."

"Of course," Westbrook answered warily.

"She's just more conscious than the usual admiral about being a guest aboard another's ship," Andrus explained. "And she has the upmost respect for Captain Atherton, here."

"Exactly; she's being overly polite. She remembers being a captain and having an admiral come aboard," Abbie quickly pointed out, only to aim a smile at Stenik. "Besides, she has so much to preoccupy her. I'm sure she has you running quite a few analyses of the sector situation, Commander."

Stenik placed his glass upon the table and nodded.  "Yes. Though, I have yet to complete my analysis at this time."

"You were always meticulous and thorough," Abbie recalled with a slight smile. "I'm sure the colonel has given the latest update as well, from the Corps."

"The update I forwarded from Betazed is more informative and up to date," Andrus noted pointedly. 

"The civilian update is a part of my analysis, Colonel," Stenik returned. 

"It has more than civilian reports, Commander. There are analyses, scans, and data compiled by more than a few former Starfleet officers, as well as members of the Fifth House." 

"You are referring to the reports from the new Betazed Guard. I am evaluating that data carefully," Stenik acknowledged, though his tone was cool.

"Because it does not agree exactly with Starfleet's view of the situation?" Andrus questioned. "Starfleet's view of the sector is why the Dominion invaded Betazed. It's time for a new view."

"Colonel," Westbrook cut in, his voice hardening. "You're not suggesting that Starfleet is trying to minimize the problem, I'm sure..."

"I'm suggesting that the problem needs to be evaluated from all angles, but that the people directly affected have the motivation to be completely honest in their reports."

"Am I to assume that you are impugning the integrity of Starfleet personnel?" Stenik's question hung in the air, until Abbie intervened.

"No one is impugning anything. But no one is disputing that this sector of the Federation is under threat from piracy not seen since for over two centuries," Abbie said definitively.

"That's correct, Captain," Leone answered, turning heads with her unexpected return. "As I assured the colonel earlier, that's why I have been assigned. Starfleet regards this as an unacceptable problem, and it will have a solution in the near future." She looked over the personnel at the table, then returned to her seat. Her words had a ring of finality to them.

Abbie shared a look with her XO, and soon the commander broke the silence which had descended. "I heard that the interior subcommittee of the Council is going to begin discussion of a possible Romulan colony during the coming week," Westbrook noted. "I think if this has been suggested before the war, I wouldn't have been in favor, but I served with several during the war- both in Starfleet uniform. Good men, both of them."

"So you're in favor?" Greg asked, quick to pick up the new topic. "I know I am. I think that's what the Federation is about, giving anyone a home who wants to live in a free and equal society."

"The Rihannsu have already been granted a right to return to their ancestral homeworld of Vulcan, provided they accept the current government," Stenik noted, picking up his fork to begin eating once more.

"It's my understanding that the Rihannsu of New Athens are not interested in returning to a Vulcan way of life, culturally speaking," Abbie disagreed. "When you live on Vulcan, there is a strong societal pressure to act as Vulcans do, and follow the strict Surakian philosophy. I felt it, even for the few years I lived on Vulcan."

"It's like that Rihannsu guy wrote in this book, 'All life wishes to endure and I am no different. But I wish to endure as myself,'" Greg chimed in as he poured himself some wine. When his wife looked at him in surprise, he smiled. "You said you liked his book, so I read it. It was pretty good."

"I wasn't aware you read recreationally," Westbrook teased the operations officer, a half-smile on his face.

Greg chuckled. "I've been known to turn a page or two from time to time."

"I am not aware of this volume," Stenik mentioned, his tone curious.

"Petty Officer First Class Khoal Tei," Leone noted. "He recently left the service and published a book, which was primarily written as a journal when he was fairly young, on ch'Rihan. Although he did not publish it then, it was discovered and he was sentenced to a reeducation camp. s'Tei secured his release some eight or nine years ago; he came over with the large defection following the fall of the Tal Shiar. He was adopted into the House of Tei when he settled on New Athens. Joined up during the war, served with distinction." She gave Abbie a smile, adding, "Areinnye is rather proud of his accomplishments. The book is called _On Choice and Freedom_."

"She should be," Abbie agreed. She turned towards the Vulcan, continuing, "He's led a remarkable life, and he's still rather young, only in his sixties, I believe. He wrote most of it when he was much younger, but the last two chapters he wrote when he was a Federation citizen. I particularly liked what he said about the 'choices of government being suspect when they are made without open discourse.' I'm paraphrasing, of course."

"I will locate his book and read it. It sounds as if he may make a good guest speaker for the Vulcan School of Diplomacy," Stenik replied. 

"Does your father still teach there?" Abbie inquired.

"He does."

Leone and Andrus quieted to listen as the quartet of Abbie, Greg, Stenik, and Westbrook continued to meander between topics. It was only when dessert was served that Abbie managed to catch Andrus' gaze and he subtly nodded in response to her thought to meet with him privately after the dinner.

* * *

Most lieutenants, junior grade, did not rate their own office. Teelis was not exactly an exception; the small room off the main corridor in this section of Utopia Planitia which housed her desk was probably a repurposed maintenance closet. That she rated her own space at all was a compliment and so she had not made mention of its size. She spent most of her time on duty in either one of the labs or on one of the holodecks running simulations anyway. She did, however, often eat her meals at her desk, as she reviewed data or composed reports.

Tonight was no exception. She reviewed the day's test data while eating her dinner, a sampling of sushi the deck's replicator knew as 'Tei Dinner Three'. She hardly seemed to taste it as she focused on the numbers on the screen.

The section's yeoman was a large Tellerite non-comm wearing the stripes of a chief on his neck.  It was he who interrupted her meal with a terse line of text informing her of an incoming message.  The caller insisted on holding for her. She sent back a quick agreement to put the call through to her.

Teelis did not need to lift her eyes to the screen to know who wished to speak with her.  While the information flashed on the screen, she deftly placed her dinner off to the side and turned to face the screen fully before opening the channel.  "Hello."

Dominic expressed his relief with an exhale and a soft smile.  "I was worried you wouldn't want to talk to me again."

"Do you think me such a juvenile?" Teelis questioned, her chin raising slightly.

He pressed his lips together at the question.  "You're still upset."

"You continue to express your expectation for childish behaviors. It is hardly flattering."

"Perhaps it's just my projection.  I feel that guilty about it, so I'm expecting a response of a particular magnitude," he admitted softly.  "I actually wanted to speak to you about a problem I'm having. Randy suggested that I contact you urgently, as you'd have some thoughts on the subject.  I naturally agreed."

Teelis tilted her head slightly, her expression immediately changing to one of concern. "What is wrong?"

He explained the predicament involving his grandmother to her, outlining the details and leaving nothing out.  Dom finished with, "And I guess what it comes down to is that I feel pushed around."

"She is your superior, culturally as well as militarily. I do not understand her motivation in keeping you on desk duty." Teelis paused, seeking out the right words. "In my former House, young officers would be placed out in the Fleets for the strategic advantage of the House and their families, to make their reputations and provide intelligence on Fleet politics. Young officers were only given desk duty if they had some failing which made such duty impractical."

Dom paused to consider her words.  "There's something she's not telling me.  Something about _Adamant_ , maybe?  Regardless, the last thing I need is to end up with more people thinking I was born with a golden commbadge in my mouth."

As he spoke, a flicker of understanding comes and goes from her face. "I… am not well-versed in politics, Dom. You should really speak to Areinnye about this. I think she would know exactly what to do, to ensure your grandmother does not exert undue influence."

"Do you think she would be willing to help me?"

"Of course," Teelis answered, surprised by the question. 

He nodded, not picking up on her change in tone.  "All right. But first, I think maybe contacting my mother would be the best move  If I'm right, Grandma's already making her moves, so I should start as well."

"I am sure that contacting both your mother and my sister would be in your best interest," Teelis agreed.

"I'm not sure how to word it to her, though," he said.  His hands interlaced fingered within view of the screen.  "My mother and my grandmother have a rather interesting relationship.  I worry what might happen if she were to get involved. Maybe I should just leave her out of it?"

"If you wish not to speak with your mother about this matter, I am quite certain that Areinnye will be able to deal with it without her intervention," Teelis replied confidently. 

He smiled.  "Thank you. For the advice."

"You are welcome," Teelis responded with a smile of her own.

* * *

When the dinner had completed and most of the guests retired to other parts of the ship, it left Abbie and Andrus alone in the mess, as Greg returned to their quarters.  Two glasses remained on top of the table, both beaded with condensation. Andrus waited patiently for the moment to arrive before he spoke privately, "My dealings with Admiral Leone were very limited when she had command of _Farragut_.  I did not have any reason to doubt her ability or her judgment when we were temporarily attached to her command.  Yet, right now, I wish Starfleet had sent someone else."

"Is her emotional state that volatile right now?" Abbie questioned immediately, blunt as always. "It seems so to me, but of course I don't have your gifts."

He reached for his glass.  "She has moments of extreme mental discipline, but mostly it's like looking into a highly-motive fractal pattern.  If she were to conduct herself in that manner on Betazed..."

"Of course." Abbie nodded understandingly, her gaze shifting to a window as she considered. "She's got a keen tactical mind, you know. And she is by nature a problem  solver. If she has the authority she has suggested she has, she will use it to solve whatever problems she finds in the defense of Betazed. It will be a distraction she welcomes, to be honest."

Andrus frowned slightly.  "I'm concerned that her need for distraction at this time of extreme vulnerability may lead the mission toward an irrevocable failure.  My home is on the verge of making a hasty decision with respect to the Federation. I want to trust in the wisdom of Starfleet Command, but either they're assuming far too much about her, or they don't care too much for the outcome."

"You think that her mourning may affect her judgement and want assurances that it will not." Abbie looked back at the colonel. "I can't give you those assurances. I have seen her make emotional decisions, and I have seen her set aside her personal preferences and feelings to make the right decision. I don't know what she'll do right now. I don't think she's ever been shaken as badly as she has been by Ariel's death." She frowned. "I don't think she ever once realized what that friendship meant to her, or the depths of Ariel's problems. I'm sure she's wading through a lot of guilt right now."

"I've had friends in my career, and I've lost many of them in the war," he replied.  "The level of emotional turmoil she is in suggests something much deeper than 'friendship.'  She's barely held together by her own force of will."

Abbie raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like a personal inquiry, Andrus." She inclined her head. "Ariel had feelings for her, as we humans say. But Krystine… for her, I would said it was closer to a sibling relationship. I mean, it makes sense. Both of them came from households where dealing with emotional situations was never taught, except to ignore or deny them."

Andrus set down his glass after drinking; he said simply, "She needs to learn quickly.  For all our sakes." He stared at Abbie with a grin. "Though, I seriously doubt she would accept help from either of us."

"I'll force it down her throat if I have to. If it's one thing getting to keep the _Indie_ has taught me, it's that I have more than a little power. I might not outrank her, but there's nothing she can do to me, not with Joy, Jay and Owen on my side."

He grumbled.  "Out here, though, she's still wearing two stars on her collar."  Andrus amended, "But something tells me that she's not going to need much prodding to talk about anything.  All of her turmoil is right below that very thin surface of control." He leaned forward in his seat. "You're her friend.  She'll listen to you, because the one person she would talk to isn't here, and she's so desperate for a friendly face that she's holding onto that chess piece like her life depended on it."

"I need her to do more than talk about it. She needs to move to the next step, doing something about it. If she can't acknowledge this before we reach Betazed..." Abbie trailed off, rather than vocalize her intention.

Andrus casted a disgusted glance toward the streaking stars and said nothing.

* * *

Leone returned to her quarters to find Charity awaiting her.  The flag lieutenant had been using the desk to work from, and rose when the admiral entered.

"Good evening, Admiral.  You have a personal message from your son waiting for you," said Charity.  "It's marked urgent."

"An urgent message from Dom?" Leone wondered aloud.  "Thank you. I'll watch this in private." After Charity withdrew to the corridor, the admiral called up the message which flashed the details including its point of origin.

Dom's face appeared on the screen.  He began speaking:

"Hi, Mom.  I already miss you, even though it's only been a day since we last saw each other on Earth.  Ordinarily, I would bother you with something like this, but I think I'm going to need all the help I can get."

Leone smiled at her son's affection, but it dropped when she leaned forward to listen attentively.

"Grandma is in your old office at Starfleet Headquarters, and she's pretty dead set on me transferring from _Adamant_ to her staff.  I've already let her know that I did not ask for this, and that I don't want it."

Leone murmured, "I'll bet she was thrilled to hear that."

"She was less than pleased with me," he said plainly, though his eyes cast downward momentarily.  He returned his gaze to the video pickup. "I informed her that I will disobey any order to transfer me from this post."

She stared at her son, mouth agape.

"I will go straight to the Detailer if I need to, but I'm hoping that she will see to reason.  She says she's transferring me for my own good... and I'm sure she has the best of intentions in doing so.  It's just that she never asked me if I wanted this. She just made this decision for me without any consideration to what I want.

"Anyway," he said, after letting out a deeply held breath, "I didn't call to complain.  I called because I'm asking for your help in convincing her to reconsider. I want to stay with my ship and my crew for now.  If I want to transfer to desk duty, I'll put in for it myself."

Leone reached out to touch the screen.  "Dom..."

"I love you.  I hope you're taking care of yourself out there.  Leone, out." The screen flickered and then displayed her other messages, awaiting her attention.

She did not give it, instead opting to consider her next action.  She could not remember the last time that Dom asked her for help with anything related to his career.  Not since his near-miss at entry to the Academy over six years prior, and even in that instance, she could do nothing to help him.

Leone touched the commpanel.  "Charity, I need you."

Her aide appeared within seconds, entering with only a quick, "Yes, Admiral?"

"Get me Admiral Nechayev."


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

 

Starfleet Headquarters  
San Francisco, Earth  
Stardate 54817.48 (26 October 2377)  
Office of the Special Adjutant to the Chief of Starfleet Intelligence

 

If there was one aspect of Starfleet service that Vice Admiral Angelina Leone drilled into her daughter and her grandson, it was punctuality.  Seated behind her desk in Starfleet Intelligence, Angelina kept a wary eye on the chronometer as the stardate ticked off with the swift passage of time.  Her outer office lay empty; not even a Flag Lieutenant sat at the desk to administrate nor receive visitors to her office.

At nearly three full minutes past the ninth hour of that morning, she decided that her charity had expired.  Grandson or not, officers were expected to report for duty at the appointed time. She reached for the desktop terminal and placed a quick call to Dominic's previous post, starship _Adamant_.  A very helpful junior lieutenant indicated that inquiries regarding her grandson were being fielded by the Starfleet Bureau of Personnel (BuPers).

"Bureau of Personnel, Commodore McAteer's office, sir," said the annoyingly cheerful ensign handling the incoming call.  "How may I help you?"

Angelina sighed, but forced a wan smile as she addressed the question.  "I'm looking for the commodore. This is Admiral Leone calling from Starfleet Intelligence."

"One moment, sir.  I'll try to put you through to her."  The BuPers logo appeared while her call was holding, before a woman wearing five gold pips on her collar appeared.

"Good morning, Admiral," she said.  "What can I do for you?"

Angelina tapped on her PADD briefly.  "I'm calling with regard to a transfer order I filed with the Bureau earlier this week."  She gave her the reference number.

McAteer nodded.  "Give me a moment, sir.  Ah, here it is. Yes, that order was canceled.  Is there anything else I can assist you with, sir?"

"Pardon me, Commodore, but it sounded there like you said it was _canceled_ ," Angelina's voice dripped icicles  "I insist that you reinstate the order, immediately."

"Sir, my _profuse_ apologies, but you don't possess the authority to reinstate that transfer."

Angelina peered at the screen.  Sharon McAteer's office managed all personnel records and order for the company grade officers within Starfleet, but she was not the final authority.  There was one other officer she could appeal to... though she loathed the notion of having to talk to him about anything outside of a terse greeting. "Commodore, I'd like to speak with Admiral Jorgensen."

A flash of elation appeared on the commodore's face.  "Oh, _absolutely_ , sir.  I think that's an excellent idea.  In fact, if I may be permitted to say, he's been waiting for your call.  One moment."

While waiting for yet another transfer, Angelina rapped her fingernails atop the desk.  The wizened old face of Vice Admiral Donald J. Jorgensen appeared by the third rap's completion.

"Admiral Leone," he greeted in his raspy tones.  "I knew it was only a matter of time before you darkened my comm system."

She maintained a tight grip on her emotions.  One of the few flag officers with as much longevity in the service as she, Jorgensen now held the advantage she once lorded over him: seniority.  Her retirement from the service now placed her with less time in grade. "Admiral Jorgensen. I was calling-"

He raised a couple of a bony fingers toward her.  "I know why you're calling me, Admiral. Let me repeat what Commodore McAteer informed you: the transfer order was canceled.  It's going to stay canceled."

She tried another tactic.  "With all due respect, this is involving a member of my family."

"I know exactly who it involves.  Did you think I wouldn't have this information already?"

"Admiral, please.  His current post will be heading into extremely hazardous duty, and he is the only member of his generation within my family.  I owe it to his mother to make sure her son is safe here at Starfleet Headquarters."

Jorgensen scoffed.  "I'll argue the point that it's safe here in San Francisco.  Look outside your window and notice that they've just finished putting the rust color back on the Golden Gate Bridge.  Safe is relative, and he's a Starfleet officer. He goes where his orders tell him to go."

Angelina scowled.  "His orders were to have been transferred _here_.  I'm sorry to do this, but I'm ordering you to reinstate the transfer."

The sudden order gave him pause.  He stared at her from the screen for nearly ten seconds when the corners of his lips turned upward into a smirk.  They formed a full smile before he dissolved into laughter. Once he composed himself, he leaned closer the the video pickups and said, "Listen up, _Angie_.  You don't get to issue me orders to wipe my ass.  The transfer order's cancellation was not originated from this office.  So, unless you ask Admirals Sitak, Nechayev, Paris, or Aspinall to intervene... or Starfleet is desperate beyond all temperance and finally see fit to place a fourth star on your collar, kindly go to hell."

Taken aback by his words, she nevertheless maintained a tight control on her outward expression and shot the screen her best stony expression.  "Is there nothing I can do to appeal to you? May I at least ask which admiral countermanded the order?"

"A directive was issued from Admiral Sitak's office regarding the heightened need for qualified tactical officers for Task Force Vanguard." Jorgensen's voice seemed full of derision. 

"I'm aware of the directive."

"I'm sure you are, though for some reason you believed that it would not apply to your request."   His tone left no doubt as to his opinion on that. "Though that directive would have been sufficient for my purposes, I will inform you that my office also received a personal request from Admiral Alynna Nechayev to belay your order and have Lieutenant Leone continue in his current assignment."

Once again, she felt her anger well up inside her.  Her features did not change to reflect any of it. "I see.  Thank you, _sir_.  I will take this up with Admiral Nechayev, directly."

"You do that, Admiral.  And if you manage to convince your friend to reverse her decision, I will take your transfer request under advisement and give it the attention it so merits.  Jorgensen, out," he said stiffly. The connection closed quickly, leaving the BuPers insignia on the screen.

Angelina rose from her desk.  Ordinarily, she would have alerted her Flag Lieutenant to contact Admiral Nechayev's office to inform her she was on her way, but seeing as how someone somewhere denied her request, she would appear unannounced as a consequence.  She squared her shoulders and proceeded through the door with the intent to settle the matter to her complete satisfaction. One way or another, Dominic was going to be serving at Starfleet Headquarters.

* * *

"What do you think this is all about?" wondered Randy as he and Dominic approached the ship's mess hall on deck four.

Dominic deadpanned, "According to the schedule, the meeting topic was 'Mission Briefing,' so I'm guessing this is going to be about hygiene."

The remark earned a slight wince from Randy.  "You know what I mean. The captain and the XO spent the early morning at Spacedock, and now there's a big meeting.  You don't think that's worthy of some healthy speculation?"

With the doors leading to the mess hall looming before them, Dominic grinned.  "I think we're a little too late for that, seeing as we're about to find out the facts."

Randy nearly whined.  "That's not my fault. They only told us about this last night, so I didn't have a chance to poll people."

A cacophony of overlapping voices greeted them as they entered the mess hall, with the assembled wardroom of _Adamant_ sat in the same place.  The ship's non-commissioned and warrants held the in-port duty while the commissions attended the meeting.  Dominic and Randy moved quickly to sit by their department head, Lieutenant Alicia Fuentes.

"Good morning, you two," she said in her lilting soprano tone, raised to be carried over the din.

They both issued their greetings respectfully before sitting down.  Though they tried to carry on a conversation, they found it futile as the others were nearly shouting at each other to be heard.  Dominic leaned in close to Randy's ear and said, "Is it just me, or are there a lot more marines in here?"

Randy leaned back and peered around before returning to Dominic.  "Sure looks like it. Judging by those six officers, looks like we might be taking on an entire company."

The booming drill instructor-like voice of the marine second lieutenant standing near the door sliced through the thick noise with precision.  "Attention on deck!" Those seated or standing came to the first stance learned when joining Starfleet.

_Adamant_ 's commanding and executive officers stood before the crowd, alongside an Amazonian Rihannsu marine major.  "At ease," said Commander Marcia Caldwell. "Please take your seats."

Once they did so, she gestured to Char.  "For those having just joined us from Spacedock, this is my executive officer, Lieutenant Commander Char."  She then turned to the marine officer and said, "This is Major Sindari Tei, the executive officer for the Recon Battalion of the Third Marines."

Satisfied that all the introductions were made, Caldwell turned to Char and nodded silently.

"Thank you, Captain," Char said, before he turned to address the crowd.  "The following information is classified by Starfleet Intelligence. The usual threats and admonitions apply.

"As I'm sure many of you are already aware, a classified briefing was conducted by Starfleet Intelligence this morning on Spacedock.  Shortly after our departure, _Adamant_ got a little more cozy with the arrival of members of Third Recon."

He turned away to focus on a large viewscreen near the bank of replicators, that activated at his manual command.  " _Adamant_ will be joining the second fleet being sent to reinforce Task Force Vanguard in the Delta Quadrant.  We will be placed under Vice Admiral T'Cirya's command. Her flag will be raised aboard USS _Yorktown_."

Dominic kept his eyes on the viewscreen, but leaned sideways and whispered to Randy, "That's the ship I was telling you about last week.  The first Gorn Starfleet captain-"

"Ssh!" Randy hissed quietly.  "Trying to listen."

Char continued, "We are to take on additional personnel, supplies, and other pertinent materials over the next three weeks.  Most of you will be reporting to Starfleet Medical for a mission-specific physical examination beginning today, so please see your division officers for the schedule prior to heading over to Spacedock's infirmary."  He opened his mouth to say more, but jerked his head toward the left side of the mess hall. "A question already?"

An engineering ensign rose from his seat and asked, "Yes, sir.  'Most of us?'"

Caldwell stepped forward to answer the question.  "We intended to get into this after the briefing, but seeing as how this is considered to be extremely hazardous duty..."  She trailed off slightly, silently conferring with Char and Tei before continuing, "Admiral T'Cirya is providing a limited number of pre-approved transfers out of the fleet.  Before a stampede of you make for the exits, I would ask that you remain and listen to the full briefing and decide then whether you wish to leave or stay with the crew. The transfers will be issued on a first-come, first-served basis, and I will not entertain any further questions at this time."  She ordered, "Proceed, XO."

"Aye, sir," replied Char quickly.  He detailed the trip to Bastion Station where they would undergo suspended animation for the long high-warp trip to the Delta Quadrant to rendezvous with the task force.  Once there, Admiral T'Cirya would report in to the task force command and act as a liaison to Starfleet Headquarters. _Adamant_ would be folded into the groups serving in the task force, along with the other ships in the second fleet.  Once he completed his part of the briefing, he turned it over to Major Tei.

Though she wore the black turtlenecked Starfleet uniform with the major's leaf on the collar, the woman's bulk could hardly be contained. Her size and stature was more fitting of that of a Klingon male than a Rihannsu female. Dominic swallowed hard, wondering if perhaps she was sent aboard as retribution for his actions against Teelis, but dismissed the thought as quickly as it arrived as he knew she would never do something like this.  Areinnye, on the other hand... would not. He didn't think. Although he could not admit it to Teelis, he was somewhat intimidated by her Galae-trained Head of House sister who commanded the loyalty of thousands of Rihannsu. That was why he had yet to contact her about his problem. 

"Thank you, Commander," she said.  "Over the next three weeks, three companies of marines will be boarding _Adamant_ and quartering in the holodecks.  Bravo company is already aboard, to be followed by Delta and Echo companies beginning next week."  Tei turned around to face the executive officer. "We will require a liaison officer."

Char pointed toward where Dominic and Randy sat.  "Lieutenant Fuentes, that's you."

Fuentes rose briefly and nodded.  "Aye, sir."

Tei acknowledged Fuentes with a nod of her own and proceeded further, "There will be over six hundred marines aboard ship, but we're not likely to cause problems with space once we reach Bastion and undergo suspension for the journey to the Delta Quadrant.  Once we arrive and link up with the task force command staff, the Third Marines will be disembarking and reassigned as the fleet sees fit."

Once the major stepped back into her former position, Char opened the floor to questions.  He took the first one, which was the predictable, "How many transfers will be given out?"

Char replied, "We are not at liberty to disclose that information, but I can say that we will grant enough to prevent the ship from being undermanned for this mission.  Next question."

Several people put down their hands, but others asked and received satisfactory answers unless they requested information that was above their clearance level.  Finally, the briefing drew to a close with Char announcing that he would be in his office tomorrow morning on deck six to receive those seeking a way out of the mission.

Caldwell spoke once more, "I want to reiterate to you all that given the peril we're being asked to undertake, I will not look down on any officer wishing to seek a berth on another ship or station.  The same offer is being given to the warrants, non-comms, and enlisted crew at a later meeting."

Twenty or so discussions broke out once the command staff withdrew from the mess hall, and Randy turned to Dominic just as Dominic turned to face him.

"You should go get a transfer," they said to each other.

There was a brief pause as they realized that they spoke the same sentiment at the same time.  Then, they did it again:

"What?!"

* * *

The bishop rolled along the tips of the fingers on her right hand as it had for the last hour.  Leone caught herself staring at it a number of time before she told herself to put it down. It rested atop her desk for only a few minutes before she reached for it again.  Compelled by its presence, it had not graced the box in which it had been given once during this trip.

Several open documents appeared on the desktop terminal within her quarters, but she felt her eyes blur whenever she read them; the pain beneath the surface of her composure began to mount a spectacular offense against her ability to keep a calm expression on her face, even within the relative privacy.  The doors opened occasionally to admit Charity as she brought a key item to her attention, but lately she admonished her admiral for not completing the reading and signing she required to make the daily transmission to Starfleet Command.

This time, she had a different message.  "A call coming through for you, sir. It's your mother."

Leone reached down deep within herself to find that last bit of willpower to force calm to the surface.  When she was ready, she nodded to Charity once. "All right. Put her though, please."

Charity barely left the room when the screen flashed with a call holding to warn Leone of its transfer.  Within a moment, Vice Admiral Leone's visage greeted her daughter with a simple, "Hello, Admiral."

It was to be an official call, Leone surmised.  "Good morning, sir. How can I help you?"

"I think you know exactly why I'm calling," her mother retorted.  Her tone's edge suggested she was not the only Leone having trouble keeping their emotions in check that morning.

Leone sighed.  "You're calling about Dominic."

"You're damned right I am.  I spoke with Alynna this morning about it and she informed me that you placed a Personal Priority to her last night asking her to have his transfer order rescinded."  Angelina nearly spat, "And how the hell did you know he was to be transferred?"

Leone kept her eyes downcast toward the bishop in her hand.  In a small voice, she admitted, "Dominic left me a message by subspace yesterday.  He told me all about what happened."

Angelina frowned.  "This is not how it works, _Krystine Marie_."

Leone said nothing, knowing almost verbatim what was coming next.

"I left you in the care of your father and your grandmother while I served on active duty," Angeline began her now-years-old recitation of the Leone Family Tradition.  "You are now on active duty and the raising of your children fall to me and your father, since that pitiful excuse for a human you call an ex-husband has taken up with his slut and is having children with her."

Every word hammered down on her to the point where she felt little else but the pain of her sorrow.  She dare not lift her eyes to her mother lest she have to admit to being near tears, and that would certainly bring on another series of paragraphs regarding her fitness for flag rank and perhaps even as a member of her own family.  As her mother continued her tirade, the anger she felt as a teenager, hearing the words rip her self-esteem apart during those brief visits while Angelina was on leave, rushed back to her all at once.

The bishop slipped within her grip, causing her hand to spasm at the sudden movement.  She clutched it tightly and luxuriated in the sudden calm that seemed to emanate from the chess piece. Leone snapped her eyes upward to face her mother and without waiting for a pause in her lecture, she said, "Enough."

Angelina blinked.  "I beg your pardon."

"You heard me, Mother," Leone began to feel better with each word spoken.  "We've been down this road before. I'm clearly not good enough to be his mother, and maybe not even good enough to be a Leone."

"Now, hold on a moment.  I never said-"

She hesitated at her mother's sudden change in tone.  "You... you didn't have to. I can read between the lines, you know.  You taught me how from an early age."

"I would never try to imply-"

"I'm not going to argue this with you.  Dominic is his own man. He's an officer in Starfleet," Leone rolled over Angelina's sputtering attempts to regain control of the conversation.  "If he wants to stay with his ship, regardless of the danger, then I have to accept that. It's his career and his life. Just as you made your choice to go off and fight the Klingon and Cardassian wars.  As _I_ made mine."

"B-But, that was _different_."

Leone's confident calm returned in full force.  "You have to let it go, Mother. You _have_ to."

"Are you giving me orders, Admiral?" asked Angelina, falling back on rank.

Leone looked back down at her hands, but it wasn't to hide her face from the screen again.  She grinned. "You can't countermand the order, sir. Aunt Alynna gave me her word. So, I respectfully suggest that you carry on with your assignment, I will carry on with mine... and I assure you that my son will see to his.  My love to Daddy."

Angelina now looked away from the screen, with an almost sullen expression on her face.

Leone leaned forward and added tonelessly,. "And believe it or not, I love you, too, Mother.  Leone, out."

* * *

"Why would I want to transfer off the ship, Randy?  I just spent all of yesterday trying to stay on board," Dominic asked, once they were clear of the mess hall.  The officers at the meeting had begun filtering out to their duty stations. A meeting of the warrants and non-comms would begin in under an hour.

Randy replied quickly, "I know, I know.  But, I thought maybe this was something that you might find too dangerous.  Consider that your grandmother has been trying so desperately to have you transferred to Headquarters; this is probably why she is being so unyielding about the idea of you staying here."

"I wouldn't put it past her to hide her cards with me, but it makes sense.  She's working in Intelligence, so she'd have known. Hell, my own mother probably knew," Dominic said.  He kept his tone low enough so that only Randy could hear him.

"And... your mother, knowing about all this I mean... she obviously thought this was a good idea," Randy put together slowly.  "You know, I'm going to stick with you. I don't need a transfer."

Dominic shook his head.  "Don't do that. You have to transfer."

"I'm a Starfleet officer, too.  This is part of my duty."

With a hand suddenly placed on his friend's shoulder, Dominic offered a half-smile.  "I know you're a good officer, but I'm asking you not to make your choice because of me.  I'm going because I want to go. I think I need to go... put some distance between me and this weird sphere of influence that comes with being a Leone.  You don't have to."

Randy sighed.  "I know I don't _have_ to, but... I owe you my career."

"No, you don't," Dominic said, a little more sharply than he intended.  "I didn't do anything that extraordinary. Really. You can't go through your entire life feeling a sense of obligation toward me, Randy.  And I would never hold that over you, either. I value you too much as a friend to do that to you."

"I know you're trying to convince me to leave, but when you say things like that, you make it even more difficult to do that," Randy noted with a smirk.  "And I know you well enough to know that you wouldn't be so crass as to take advantage of my sensibilities. Which is why I'm glad you're my friend."

Dominic squeezed Randy's shoulder again.  "Then, you'll go to Char? Get the transfer?"

Randy nodded, but did not meet Dom's gaze.  "Yeah. But..."

"Yes?"

"Promise me that you'll come back?"

Dominic hesitated before responding, nearly agreeing before he felt a tug of a memory surfacing within him.  All the times he asked for his mother to promise a return that were broken, along with all the times he sought consolation with his grandmother that turned into an admonishment.  He opened his mouth to reply, but the corridor filled quickly with a number of non-commissioned officers now heading into the mess hall.

All he said to Randy, loud enough to be heard over the increased volume, "I'll see what I can do.  I'll meet you on deck seven in an hour."

* * *

For almost five minutes, Leone reveled in the cathartic feeling that telling her mother off gave her. It was a pleasant change from these past few weeks of constant emotional uncertainty. For once, she was absolutely certain she had done the right thing and knew that all of her closest friends would approve.

It was the weight of the bishop in her hand which brought her back to her new reality. Looking down at the piece, she felt the tendrils of doubt slipping back into her thoughts. _Would her mother retaliate? Could she convince Alynna to interfere?_ Almost desperate to prevent this familiar retread, she hurriedly said aloud, "Computer, display Federation News Channel One."

The monitor quickly changed from an array of documents to the familiar face of the  leading political analyst on the channel. "Good evening. I am Nigella Lawton-McMurray, and this is Council Watch on Federation News Channel One," the middle-aged woman introduced herself. "We're privileged today to have three excellent panelists for our discussion of the Romulan question. Should the Federation authorize a new colony for the Romulans who have defected?

"Joining me today are Doctor Karmic Glensha, professor emeritus from the Vulcan School of Diplomacy and Nobel Laureate in Economics, retired Admiral Forrest Benoit, former liaison officer to the Federation Security Council, and Councillor Rickus Utear, a former member of the Council for Coridan," she continued, introducing in turn the Andorian woman, and the human and Cordian males seated to her left. Each panelist nodded as the camera focused in on them.

Leone exhaled sharply through her flared nostrils when Forrest Benoit's face appeared.  Benoit's status with the Federation Council often caused his ego to rage out of control during debates on policy at Starfleet Headquarters.  Now, in his retirement, she surmised that his appearances on the news feeds were continuing to feed that ego.

"Before we begin, I would just like to outline for our viewers the scope of the problem. The Interior Committee of the Council is going to begin discussions this week on possibly giving Romulans who have defected to the Federation and their descendants their own colony world. We are all aware of the over 100,000 Romulans who defected in 2171. However, the latest census numbers put the Romulan population of the Federation at well over one million, including the descendants of those who have defected over the centuries and chosen to identify as Romulan.

"The current initiative to establish a Romulan homeworld is being spearheaded by Councillor Terrence Zajac, representing the colony world New Athens. New Athens is currently home to over 50,000 Romulans, most of whom are part of the same House, or clan, the House of Tei. In 2172, over 40,000 Romulans settled on the colony with the government's blessing. Now, the colony is experiencing unprecedented population growth, with over 3,000 Romulan births since their arrival. In fact, including those children who defected with their parents or guardians, approximately 30 percent of the Romulan population is under the age of 25. This is severely taxing the resources of New Athens, particularly their infrastructure. Councillor Zajac, advocating on behalf of his Romulan constituents, has proposed giving the Romulans their own homeworld, one that would be welcoming to all Romulans in the Federation. The alternative, at least for New Athens, is a large infusion of resources to insure the colony can meet the population demands of their new demographic."

"If I may inject, Nigella," Glensha interrupted politely. "I believe we should be using the term 'Rihannsu' to refer to this population. It is the name by which they identify themselves, at least the New Athenians."

_Damn right_ , thought Leone with a quick nod of her head.

"But not all of them do, Professor," Lawton-McMurray responded. "A large number of Romulans within the Federation do not use that term. I think Romulan is the most inclusive term and so that is what I will use for this discussion."

"Really, that just encapsulates why this homeworld initiative is at best premature, " said Councillor Utear. "They don't have a shared sense of themselves. They are a fractured community, living through the Federation in groups, each with its own philosophy. Some are living what we would call a Vulcan way of life; others have completely adopted other cultures, including human. Just because the New Athenian Romulans want a homeworld does not mean their homeworld is somewhere other Romulans would want to live."

"Based on the opening proposal, the new homeworld would have a representative democracy, with laws mirroring that of the Federation itself. There is nothing particular to the New Athenian Rihannsu way of life in the colony as proposed," Lawton-McMurray noted. "The only mention of race in the entire proposal is that anyone of Romulan descent would be allowed to claim citizenship, if he or she so chose."

"I think there are some obvious security implications to a Romulan homeworld within the Federation that Councillor Zajac is overlooking in his proposal," Admiral Benoit spoke for the first time. "Now, let me make my point before I am accused of racism," he continued, shooting the Andorian a look as her antennae twitched. "The Romulans within the Federation are themselves not a security risk, although there are people who believe that they are. Among the Federation races, no one has a higher percentage of members who have joined Starfleet. There has not been a single incident with an open defector who has turned out to be a Romulan spy or plant, nor was there a single major incident with the Romulans currently serving openly in the Fleet; instead, all of the incidents have been with Romulans posing as Vulcans or mercenary spies of various races. If this was the only consideration, then I would be wholly in support of a Romulan homeworld.

"But it is not. There are one million Romulans in the Federation, but how many of them support having a homeworld apart from Vulcan? We don't know the real answer to that question. One of the main reasons a homeworld was found for the Skreeans is due to the number of them, triple that of the Romulans, and a near consensus on how they wanted to live in the Federation. We only know for certain that about 50,000 Romulans want a homeworld, a third of them children.

"Even assuming all the Romulans want a single homeworld, that homeworld now becomes a target for retribution by the Romulan Empire. Instead of having them spread throughout the Federation, we give the Empire a single target on which to concentrate their anger. In fact, we increase that anger by inflaming already tense relations with our allies by giving their defectors their own planet."

"Are you saying that Starfleet and the Federation would be incapable of protecting this homeworld?" Glensha asked incredulously.

"No, of course not. I'm saying they would present a high value target for the Romulan Empire and it's not just a matter of giving them a planet. We might even have to redeploy a Fleet to adequately protect them, and that is a problem. That's nearly unprecedented," Benoit retorted.

Leone scoffed.  "What an ass," she said aloud to the screen.  "Like Earth isn't a high-value target, or Vulcan, or Trill."

"I disagree that this population does not present a risk to the Federation itself, in a concentrated form," Utear added. He leaned forward in his seat as he spoke. "Just because something has not happened yet does not mean it could not happen. I think it's in the Federation's best interest to have this population spread out among various different systems, as much to assimilate them to our way of life as to mitigate the security risk."

"Some Romulan families have been in the Federation for a century or more! That's absolutely preposterous," Glensha scoffed. "And the newest members are a third children. Don't tell me you think some of those children are threats, sleepers programmed by the Tal Shiar? They are here precisely because the Tal Shiar fell apart, thanks to wildly overextending themselves."

"If I may," Lawton-McMurray interceded. "I have here the official press release from the Starfleet Public Affairs Office, put out on behalf of Captain Areinnye Tei, Head of House for the Tei. It says, 'As a member of Starfleet, I have no comment about the possibility of a planet being designated for a new Rihannsu colony within Federation space. As Head of House, I have similarly have no comment. It is up to the people and their elected representatives to determine the outcome of such discussions." She lowered the PADD from which she was reading. "What about that statement?"

"I find that questionable in its entirety. She obviously has an opinion, one which I am sure she has made known throughout the House. Why can we not know it?" Utear demanded.

"Because she doesn't play the game at your level, that's why," Leone continued to talk to herself, and over Utear's words,  "She's a little higher up than that."

"She is right; she is an active duty Starfleet officer, and as such, should not be commenting publicly about a political decision. It would be highly improper," Admiral Benoit denied. He gestured with his right hand, continuing,  "I will also say again, there has been no problem with any Romulan serving in Starfleet. I know personally that Captain Tei has conducted herself as a good member of the Fleet - she's a doctor, by the way, Councillor - and so has every Romulan who has served. But any of them who still wear the uniform should not be commenting, whatever their social standing might be outside of service."

"I think this statement is entirely in keeping with what we know about the Rihannsu, those on New Athens and elsewhere. These people came here to escape the monolithic Rihannsu culture on ch'Rihan, one in which the House structure, a social institution, was hopelessly intertwined with the political structure. Head of Houses in the Empire are nobility. Here, the Rihannsu are expressly separating the political function from their Houses. I don't believe the captain has even once expressed any political opinion in public; she's not even among the Rihannsu who act as liaisons between their community and their Councillor," Glensha explained.

As the panel continued to debate the merits and flaws of the proposed colony, Leone felt herself reach something close to her new normal. It wasn't calm exactly, but instead, a plateau of emotion. There was more happening in the galaxy than her family problems, and as she tightened her grip on the bishop in her hand, she tried to tell herself that she would do a better job to remember that. Soon.


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

 

NCC-76781 (USS _Adamant_ )  
Docking Bay 94, Spacedock, Sol III  
Stardate 54817.47 (26 October 2377)  
Captain's Ready Room

 

Although this was not his first time visiting the captain within her ready room aboard _Adamant_ , Dominic felt taken aback by the decor she chose for her private office.  The bulkheads on all sides were covered in mementos from each of the planets she had visited in her many years serving within the Special Operations division.  He asked about one on a previous visit and was told that the story was classified.

Commander Marcia B. Caldwell welcomed him into the ready room with a "come-on" gesture of her left hand, which then pointed to the seat in front of her desk.  "Sorry to do this to you, Lieutenant, but I received a 'request' from a certain admiral."

Dominic took the seat and nearly deflated at the captain's words.  "Yes, sir. I'm guessing this is an admiral I'm related to."

"I have a sneaking suspicion that it originated from your family, yes," Caldwell said.  She relaxed her seated posture to lean back within the comfort of her chair. "I've been asked to offer you a transfer off this ship and to a post of your choosing.  Not necessarily to a desk job, if you prefer. But definitely out of the task force."

The prospect of being able to choose his next berth held some appeal as he considered the possibilities.  Though, not thinking about a station or planetside assignment, he wondered what good a tactical officer might do for the team at Utopia Planitia.  "May I have permission to speak candidly, sir?"

"Certainly."

"If you were in a similar position, would you want to serve in another capacity, sir?"

Caldwell lifted her eyebrows upward.  "Interesting question. I guess I would see what the field had to offer before I could answer that intelligently.  I wouldn't necessarily jump ship because someone offered me a free pass. Sometimes, the best option is to stay put."

He nodded as he listened, assimilating her opinion.  "For the moment, I'm not inclined to leave. Even if we're going off on a dangerous mission, which by the way, aren't all our missions dangerous?  Space isn't a safe place to operate."

His last sentence drew a snort from Caldwell, "I wouldn't say the space in which _I_ operate in is safe, that's for sure."  She waved a hand, almost dismissively toward him.  "You have to come to a decision by the end of the day.  The XO submitted the preliminary list of approved transfers from this morning's rush at his office.  I will finalize it and submit it to Starfleet at eighteen hundred. So, let's say... seventeen hundred hours is your deadline, all right?"

Sensing he was being asked to leave, Dominic rose from the chair and said, "Aye, sir.  And I apologize for your involvement in this family... uh, dispute."

Caldwell grinned.  "No need for an apology, Lieutenant.  If anything, this has been a welcome diversion from the intense mission preparations."

Dominic bristled inwardly at the barb, unintentional though it may have been.  Keeping his tone level and as neutral as he could, he offered a small smile and said, "Then I'm glad I could provide a little amusement to your day, sir."

* * *

Charity leaned over the admiral's desk, pointing at the small display on the PADD.  "And I'll need your authorization on this form, as well."

For Leone, the PADD had been the latest in a long series of forms she read throughout the day.  With a heavy sigh, she allowed her exasperation to leak through into her tone, "What _is_ this, now?"

"Sir, you remember from yesterday, right?  This is the blanket order for the marine forces to transfer to Betazed upon arrival.  They're technically under your command while aboard _Indefatigable_."

Leone vaguely recalled the brief conversation and reminder, but decided not to extend the conversation.  She applied her code to the form and authorized the order. The PADD disappeared into Charity's hand as quickly as it was laid down.

"Anything else?" Leone asked wearily.

Charity replied with a quick nod as her fingers scrolled through her PADD.  "Yes, sir-"

On the heels of Charity's response, the ship's computer announced a red alert.  "All senior officers, report to the bridge," said the computer.

Without waiting for Charity to say another word, Leone pushed herself out of her seat.  "I'm going up there to see what's going on. We'll have to pick this up later."

"Admiral!"  Though she was temporarily shocked into silence by Leone's sudden decision to leave, Charity's startled voice was cut off by the closing of the doors behind her as Leone made her way to the turbolift.

Being a mere four decks below the bridge gave Leone the advantage of arriving first.  She instinctively walked toward the captain's chair, even daring to place her hand atop the back...

Greg moved to stand next to her, as he obviously had the duty.  "Admiral," he began, "welcome to the bridge."

"Status?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the viewscreen.

"Uh…" Greg stalled in his response.  Behind her field of vision, he kept looking back toward the lift until the proper officers stepped through.  Abbie and Commander Westbrook arrived together, just in time. "Captain," he greeted.

Abbie wasted little time.  "Report."

Leone turned her head at the new voice, and moved over to observe the tactical console.  She did not focus on the display, instead keeping her ears open to listen in on the conversation.

"Uh, distress call from a civilian freighter," Greg answered.  " _Xerxes_ , Federation-registered, reported to be on a long haul from Betazed to Earth.  She's under attack from two unidentified craft. I've altered course to intercept."

"Very good," she said.  Abbie took her chair, as Westbrook took his seat to her right.  "I have the conn."

"Captain has the conn," affirmed Greg, loudly so everyone on the bridge could hear that the captain now had direct control of the bridge.

Westbrook asked, "Estimated time to intercept?"

A very young-looking Andorian ensign at the flight control console turned her head briefly.  "Approximately six minutes at our present speed of warp nine-point-nine-nine-five, sir."

"Heavy foot," muttered Westbrook.

"Warranted," Abbie judged quietly.

Leone did her own judging from the tactical position.  Ra-Gomelmora kept his posture relaxed as he called up a real-time status on the ship's defensive systems.  If he noticed her presence, he never acknowledged her. She admired his attention to duty, even with a two-star admiral breathing down his neck.

"Incoming transmission from _Xerxes_ , Captain," reported Greg.

"On screen."

"Uh, looks like they're unable to send a visual transmission, sir."

Abbie dispassionately replied, "Fine, on speakers."

The static-filled transmission erupted from the bridge's audio system, " _Indefatigable_!  What is your ETA?  We're taking heavy fire from two ships.  They won't answer our hails. Shields are now down to forty-four percent and falling quickly."

" _Xerxes_ , this is Captain Atherton, commanding _Indefatigable_.  Our ETA is…"

"Four minutes, fifteen seconds," supplied the helm officer.

"... just over four minutes.  Can you provide any information about your attackers?" Abbie continued with an acknowledging nod toward the helm.

The male voice speaking previously started again, but his first word cut out due to an explosion in the background.  When it subsided, his voice returned, "-n't make out who they are, and we didn't even see them until we looked out the nearest viewport!  We have a poor sensor package on this ship, Captain, and we're using everything we've got to keep the shields up, so please hurry!"

Abbie's calmed tone contrasted against the excited _Xerxes_ officer.  " _Xerxes_ , your information is most helpful.  We're approaching at top speed, I assure you."  She paused to ask, "We heard an explosion earlier, is anyone injured?"

"It was a bypassed circuit breaker.  It caused one of our secondaries to overload.  We're fine for now; just a few bumps and bruises from being knocked about."

Greg announced, "Captain, we're within visual range."

"On screen."

The viewscreen blinked, and all eyes were immediately upon it.   _Xerxes_ sat motionless amidst two circling ships.  The skin of both ships appeared to be shimmering in the light between the stars.  Only the lances of weapons fire upon the freighter's weakening shields seemed to illuminate them.

"I can barely see them," said Abbie.  "I need a tactical analysis."

Ra-Gomelmora replied immediately, "Sir, our sensors are better than theirs.  I'm showing two heavily-modified civilian craft. One is an out-of-service medium yacht, the other is… I think it's a repurposed Minuteman-class freighter."

"Can you identify them?" asked Westbrook.

"Negative, Commander," replied Greg.  "I'm unable to get a transponder code from either ship on the IFF frequencies."

Abbie leaned back in her seat. "That will make torpedo acquisition easier, won't it?"

Ra-Gomelmora responded as Colonel Otex stepped onto the bridge, "Yes, sir.  I'm reading the freighter's IFF signal clearly."

The colonel stepped in behind Leone to give the tactical officer yet another member of the impromptu audience, though briefly as he moved over toward the starboard side of the bridge to glance at Greg's operations console.

"Where's the nearest Border Service vessel?" queried Abbie sharply.

Greg stabbed at his console before responding, "USS _Alder_ , but she cannot divert; they're more than fifteen light years away, handling an interdiction."

The mention of _Alder_ drew Leone's attention over to Otex, who returned a bland expression toward her.  

As _Indie_ hurtled toward the conflict, the image of the three ships engaged grew larger. The shields of the freighter continued to valiantly defend against the attack, but the noticeable discoloration of the energy discharges managed to finally batter down the overworked shield generators until one of the attacking ships scored a direct hit against _Xerxes_ ' hull.

"They have a hull breach!" cried Greg loudly. "They're venting atmosphere, and…"  On the screen, the outline of three beings could be seen in the limited light of the ship's illumination before the freighter's emergency forcefield took hold to prevent any further loss of life.

"I see it," Abbie's tone grew icy.  "Mister Ra-Gomelmora, call out your targets."

"Aye, sir," Ra-Gomelmora answered quickly.  "Tactical display on main viewer, Captain. I am designating targets Tango-One and Tango-Two," he said, as the ships sprouted red highlighting on the screen.   _Indie_ 's position was plotted in relation to the two ships, with her weapons' range outlined in a large circle.

Abbie did not wait, "Target Tangos One and Two, torpedo program Mike-Mike.  I want to draw their attention."

"Mike-Mike programmed, aye, sir."

"Fire all tubes, Commander."

"Torpedoes away!"  The screen showed the photon torpedoes as they sped along the ship's own trajectory.  Leone counted out a double-salvo, fired in rapid succession from the ship's forward tubes; eight torpedoes in all.  The initial torpedoes slowed until their brethren caught up and then bore down at maximum speed against their targets.

As Ra-Gomelmora counted off the distance to impact, Leone watched until the torpedoes broke formation and detonated in a wide dispersal pattern.  For a moment, all the sensors could pick up was the energy release. It acted like a large flare in the darkness of space, causing the visual image to flicker just once.  Leone wondered how heavily the raiders' sensors were affected in the blast.

Once the sensors returned to full capacity, Tangos One and Two appeared to break off their attack and inexplicably began a run against _Indie_.

Westbrook called out, "All decks, brace for impact."

As if on cue, both ships release a volley of torpedoes of their own, scoring a number of direct hits against the Sovereign-class starships shields.  Leone reached out with her left hand to steady herself against the bridge's superstructure as she felt the lags in the ship's inertial dampening field.

Ra-Gomelmora reported, "Four direct hits against our shields, Captain.  Shields at ninety-eight percent and holding."

" _Xerxes'_ life support is offline," warned Greg.  "They're reporting over a dozen wounded, and three missing."

Abbie ordered, "Helm, bring us close enough to the freighter to extend our shields.  Mister Ra-Gomelmora, you may fire at all targets of opportunity."

 _Indie_ closed on the freighter and slowed to take up a defensive station, placing themselves between the raider ships.  Short, purple lances of light darted from the smaller ships and touched the starship's shields.

"Sickbay, please be advised that you have incoming wounded," Abbie spoke to the communications pickups.  "Bridge to transporter room one; beam aboard survivors directly to sickbay."

"Analysis indicates polaron weaponry, Captain," reported Greg.  "Looks like our Tangos might've salvaged some Dominion technology."

Westbrook noted, "Not surprising, considering how much debris is floating out there.  But this is not atypical of the how ingenious some of these pirates are becoming in this postwar era."

The bright orange phaser beams from _Indefatigable_ managed to score several direct hits during their conversation, until the bright flare of their shields ceased.  The next hit touched down on the aft quarter of Tango Two and both ships immediately withdrew from combat at sublight speeds before the flash of their warp plasma vents could be seen and they fled, faster-than-light.

"Shall I lay in a pursuit course, sir?" asked the helmsman.

"Stand by, helm."  Abbie tapped the control panel on her chair.  "Transporter room, do we have all of the survivors?"

"Not all of them, yet, sir," said a female voice.  "Two of them were apparently trapped behind a collapsible bulkhead, a little too close to a coolant leak that has most of the deck shut down.  We'll need to send over a team to get to them."

"Very well," replied Abbie coolly. "That's a negative, helm.  Our first priority is to see to the freighter's crew and render aid."  She nodded to Westbrook.

"Stand down red alert," ordered Westbrook.  "Engineering, we need three squads of damage controlmen to transporter room one immediately."

With the situation in hand, Leone moved toward the port-side turbolift.  Colonel Otex quickly moved to join her before the doors slid shut.

Once they called out their destinations, Otex remarked evenly, "This is just the tip of the iceberg."

"I can see that.  MinDef is aware that pirates are making use of war salvage, and it's not like we've not seen that happen before," Leone said. "But, I understand how bad it's getting.  I've never seen piracy this far in from the border."

"They're operating with impunity because they know they can get away with it."

"Not today, they didn't."

"Admiral, a Sovereign-class starship isn't going to come to the rescue every time… and it hasn't."

Leone raised her hand just as the lift stopped at her deck.  "I said I understood, Colonel. My purpose here to effect a mutually equitable solution to the problem."  She paused almost as soon as she made a motion to leave. "Because I don't want you to feel as though I'm brushing you off, I would like to discuss this further.  We'll include Commander Stenik. Does that meet with your approval?"

Otex inclined his head soberly.  "Aye, sir."

* * *

Dominic waited patiently for the call to be completed within the relative privacy of the junior officer quarters aboard _Adamant_.  His calls to Utopia Planitia were now becoming a daily occurrence.

Teelis appeared on his screen after several minutes. "Lieutenant," she greeted him politely. From the background, it was clear she was in the closet that doubled as her office.

"Did you know about Vanguard?" he accused from the start.  "Did you know about all this?"

"I cannot answer that question, Dom," Teelis responded, her neutral 'Vulcan' expression appearing.

Frustrated by her response, he sighed.  "Well, I've been made aware of the task force, and the mission already.  What I want to know is if you were working things like this back at the Academy."

"I cannot answer that question," she repeated blandly.

"What exactly is your clearance level?"

"I cannot...," she began to reiterate.

He raised a hand to stop her from speaking.  "I get it. Clearly, I'm not high enough on the totem pole to know what's going on, but my ship has been assigned to the task force.  I am going to the Delta Quadrant. And I know I'm not violating anything by telling you this, because you probably already know."

Teelis did not respond to his statement directly. "Did you speak with my sister about countering your grandmother's orders for transfer, then?"

He stared at Teelis' image on the screen for a long moment, to consider whether or not he should let her get away with changing the subject.  "No. I haven't," he said, finally.

"So the situation resolved without her input?" Teelis inquired. "You said your ship had been assigned to Taskforce Vanguard."

Dominic nodded.  "I contacted my mother.  She made a call on my behalf, but it seems to have led to an offer of a free transfer to any assignment I want.  I believe that offer may have been coordinated through my grandmother's office, but I can't be sure. I've decided that I won't take it, regardless.  I'm staying on this ship for the forseeable future." He took a beat and then told her, "I wanted you to know that I won't be around for the next couple of years."

Teelis inclined her head. "Yes, I know. Possibly longer," she stated, leaving him little doubt that she knew the parameters of the taskforce better than he did.

He went silent once more.  "Well... I'm not leaving right away.  We have at least three weeks before we shove off for Bastion.  Maybe... I don't know if you feel like it, but I thought perhaps you'd like to see me once or twice before then."

"Of course. My schedule is somewhat difficult right now, but I am sure allowances will be made." She moved on swiftly. "Dom, you must speak with my sister. Although the current situation seems to have resolved, if you do not take further steps, you will have to deal with the interference of your grandmother again," she stated authoritatively.

"I thought you weren't very good with Fleet politics."

"But I am well-versed in family politics, especially when it involves Admirals." When he gave her a confused look, she clarified following a chuckle. "My forefather, my father's father, is Enriov of one of s'Khnialmnae fleets. The Fleet Admiral. His brother? khre'Enriov, or Admiral. His father is a Senator, former khre'Enriov. There are more Enriovs of various degrees among my closest relations, and each large family gathering for festival days was fraught with Fleet politics. My own father is Riov, though in the logistical branch. He knew more than most about the maneuverings of the family."

"I...knew your father was a Captain, but not the rest," Dominic replied, then frowned. "But you were always so nervous around Aunt Alynna.."

"I represent my entire House, by being the first in the Academy. It was imperative that she think well of me, and so my House. With my forefather, I had only to be myself."

"I see." Dominic took a breath. "So you think my grandmother will interfere again?"

"Yes. And Areinnye will best be able to find a solution."


	8. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

 

Spacedock  
In geosynchronous orbit of Earth.  
Stardate 54822.65 (27 October 2377)  
Deck 147, Section H14 (Medical)

 

Dominic leaned against the bulkhead just inside of the examination section of the large l hospital housed aboard Spacedock.  The facility brimmed with marines. He waited with those officers that were sitting in the plush alcove. Within his earshot were two human marine second lieutenants obviously assigned to the same company, given the unit insignia worn on the left shoulder of their uniforms.

"The Old Man says that the Romulan doctor over there has been with our regiment through the war," said the fair-haired one on the left.  Their eyes never left the sight of Areinnye as she moved from patient to patient, giving them their clearance to be deployed before she moved out of eyeshot.  

His darker-haired colleague appeared mesmerized by Areinnye before he composed himself long enough to respond.  "She's beautiful," he said. "And she's not coming with us on this mission?"

"Until she says so, it's not certain that _you_ get to come with us."

"You know what I mean."

"Since the regiment got dissected into this new expeditionary unit, Doctor Gorgeous has been reassigned here.  I think they're going to put her in charge," speculated the fair-haired lieutenant.

A gravelly male voice startled Dominic, as it spoke to him from behind.  "Lieutenant Leone?"

"Uh, yes?"

"Doctor Tei will see you in her office," said the man wearing the medical blue turtleneck under a smock.  "This way, please."

Wordlessly led into a new corridor, Dominic quickly found himself in front of a single-door hatch rather than the double doors of a traditional office.  "Enter," said Areinnye, after he announced himself with the small panel.

Calling the small room an "office" was generous.  The space Areinnye occupied clearly had been recently repurposed for her private use, given her rank and position.  At that moment, Dominic's eyes lifted up toward her neck and found that four pips now resided there instead of the usual three.

"Congratulations on your promotion, _Captain_ Tei," Dominic said after being admitted.

Areinnye raised an eyebrow at the salutation. "Thank you, but it was expected," she admitted as she rose from behind her desk.  With a graceful gesture towards the chairs, she invited, "Please, have a seat."

"Er, thank you," he said hesitantly.  The chairs were mismatched; pulled from different rooms aboard the starbase.  He chose the chair with arms and sat down. "And thank you for seeing me. I can see how busy your day is.  I feel foolish for taking up your time with something as trivial as this… but Teelis insisted."

The doctor resumed her seat, the corner of her mouth quirking in amusement.  "And my sister claims not to have a talent for leadership."

Briefly unable to meet her gaze, Dominic admitted, "She has me at a slight disadvantage, presently."  

"That sort of advantage is not one she would ever press. It is not her natural inclination, and I have made sure she did not acquire any bad habits that would have her stray from that."  She regarded him quietly, head tilting before giving him a smile. "You characterize your problem as trivial, but it is really yet another salvo in on-going war within your family. Having come from a family where internal politics often played out in fleet politics, I can assure you that your problem is neither trivial nor something about which you should feel foolish."

"Ah, yes, of course," he replied.  He launched into a quick retelling of the events that led him to her office and finished with a question: "What do you think I should do?"

"I have already given the matter some thought.  Teelis was concerned that you would not ask for my help and requested I reach out to you if you did not come to me within a day.  You of course realize that your grandmother is playing a rather nasty game of one-upmanship with your mother?"

Dominic paused before speaking further.  A multitude of emotions swept through him as Areinnye spoke frankly with him.  Surprise followed by mortification, then sadness. Finally, he landed on anger.  His fist balled up tightly and he spat, "It never fucking _ends_ with them!"  His loss of decorum was brief.  As he realized his loss of control, he returned to mortification.  "Oh, my God. I'm so sorry, Captain."

Areinnye shook her head. "Do not worry about my reaction, but be mindful that your reaction to unpleasant truths while in public affects your reputation greatly."  She leaned back in her chair and continued, "And it will end when _you_ end it.  You cannot, and you will not, be a pawn in their game, one in which your mother is rather inconsistent in protecting you. Now that you are a commissioned officer, you have the opportunity to begin to unravel yourself from their political machinations. Naturally, I cannot step in on your behalf; you will just be seen to turn to yet another high-ranking matriarch when you must establish yourself in your own right.  So, you must intervene, and been seen to intervene, directly on your behalf. That means going to speak to one of the Admirals with more authority than you grandmother." She paused, as if to gauge his reaction.

"But if I'm seen to use the same avenues that I've openly opposed… won't that be hypocritical?"

"You've openly opposed using your familial connections to advance your career and goals; now those connections are working against you.  Quite frankly, the only way to fight an admiral is with another admiral." Areinnye chuckled. "Or through some less scrupulous means, of course, but we won't discuss those."  She rose once again from her chair and walked over to a replicator on one of the bulkheads. "There are five admirals with the clout to overrule your grandmother and stymie her interference.  I presume you know about whom I speak?"

He swallowed visibly.  "Admiral Paris would probably be my first call.  He's the vice-chief of Starfleet Operations."

"A good call.  Nechayev and Aspinall are too close to your family, Sitak will not respond, and Jorgensen has a personal vendetta against your grandmother.  However, Admiral Aspinall is your best bet if your appeal to Admiral Paris falls on deaf ears. I am sure, however, that if you were to approach him with a bottle of his favorite scotch, he will be amenable to your suggestion that your grandmother not be allowed to dictate the course of your career. He has some strong opinions about using one's position to influence the career of a relative."  As she spoke, she tapped in a sequence into the replicator and took the soon-replicated vial and installed it into a hypospray.

Dominic blinked at the sudden replication and asked, "Do you need to return to duty?  I can leave."

"This is for you," Areinnye replied, turning to approach him.  "Please give me your right wrist."

He frowned.  "You could tell?"  Dominic lifted his wrist as ordered and waited for the inevitable hiss of the spray.

"I am trained to tell. It is a skill a Rihannsu doctor needs to acquire when treating a population with a strong cultural aversion to medical intervention."  Areinnye gently took his wrist her hand and pressed the hypospray into it. "This is a low-level steroid and a mild analgesic. You should be less vigorous when playing baseball on the holodeck.  I'll also make a note on your medical record, in case anyone should wonder why you came to see me."

Dominic laughed weakly.  "Yeah, that should make our chief medical officer happy to hear that I came all the way out to Spacedock for a simple wrist thing…"

"I rather doubt your chief medical officer will be the one inquiring as to your visit," Areinnye answered.  "Besides, being right-handed and having just broken up with your girlfriend, there are more embarrassing reasons why you might visit a doctor with whom you do not serve."

"What?"  The realization then dawned on him.  "Oh… _right_."  Dominic felt his cheeks warm as he spoke, "I'm not so sure I'm comfortable with anyone thinking that Teelis and I were at that point in our relationship."

"You are within the normal age range for a human, and she is assumed to be so by many.  I am quite sure many of your classmates thought you were more intimate than your current embarrassment might suggest," Areinnye noted dryly, returning to her seat.  She did not appear the least bit uncomfortable by the turn in conversation.

"I can assure you that I never once even hinted that we were that intimate," he said quickly and to his mind, perhaps a bit more forcefully than he would with an officer that outranked him four times over.  " _Sir_ ," he added in a softer tone.

"I have no doubt of that, Dominic.  You constructed an elaborate deception to protect my sister from the embarrassment of unwanted affections; you certainly would not 'paint a picture' that would have inflamed the imaginations of your classmates."

"Thank you," he said genuinely.  "I hope that someday Teelis will understand that.  But, I know that it isn't about the intention, and rather the method I used."  Dominic rose from the chair and straightened his uniform top. "I hope she'll have time enough to forgive me while I'm off in the Delta Quadrant."

"You are wrong; her anger is about failing to let her know about the scheme.  Of course, she is rather awful at deceptions and lies, so I approved of you not informing her," Areinnye answered plainly.  "Also, you have not asked about which scotch is Admiral Paris' favorite."

"I didn't need to," he told her.  "Johnnie Walker Black."

Areinnye smiled once more. "You should make an appointment as soon as is practicable for you both."

Dominic gave her a succinct nod.  "I will. And thanks for this," he said as he held up his right wrist.  "And for listening."

"Of course, Dominic. Good luck."

* * *

"Sir, I respectfully disagree," said Colonel Otex.  "There isn't enough coverage to protect the commercial spacelanes on the Andorian approaches."

Leone frowned deeply at his harsh tone, sparing a quick glance at Commander Stenik before stating, "Colonel, when we sat down, I mentioned that this is work in progress, so please… feel free to pick it apart."

Throughout Commander Stenik's presentation of said proposal, Andrus felt his frustration grow into anger toward both officers.  The plan was just nowhere near the level of response he desired or even hoped for. His eyes drifted toward the twin flag "stars" on the neck of her uniform, and suddenly found himself wondering how the hell an officer like her ever reached command rank, let alone the admiralty.

He took in a deep breath to settle himself as he returned his gaze to the screen illustrating the admiral's plan.  "Look, I would want an entire Marine Expeditionary Unit deployed to the planet's surface, with two dropships in orbit on standby.  I would also recommend adding at least five vessels of a cutter or larger class to run regular patrols of the surrounding sector space, so they're not more than half a light-year away at most."

Stenik noted, "That is an achievable goal, sirs.  However, this would leave the Andorian and Trill sectors without sufficient Starfleet coverage, as we would need to reallocate the MEU from Andor and pull three cutters from Trill."  He reached forward to tap as his PADD. On the large display, Andrus' wishes were executed as orders in the proposal, showing the effect it had in the immediate region of Federation space.

"With all due respect to Andor and Trill, Betazed has been the hardest hit," Andrus replied quickly.  "My current mission is to see to Betazed's planetary security, which is clearly a weak spot in this sector, and that's my input to strengthen the defenses here."

"And I get that, Colonel.  I do," Leone said slowly. "My goal and your mission are folded into the larger picture, though.  If I could get my hands on three or four more Border Service or even regular Starfleet vessels, this would be a stronger proposal for your government."

Andrus asked, "What about the MEU?"

"I could talk to General Felter, I guess.  Would you consider a light MEU or perhaps one element from the Andorian MEU?" Leone considered aloud.  "Stenik?"

The Vulcan touched his PADD once more and informed both officers, "A light MEU still requires at least six months of formation and training prior to being service-ready for deployment.  At the most, we would require the Marine Corps order to form the new unit, staff it, and then deploy it using Starfleet assets, most likely a Sovereign, Galaxy, or Nebula-class starship to convey them to Betazed.  I believe that it would be a valid solution to the marine problem, however."

"General Felter is a good marine, Admiral," added Andrus. "He will listen to reason."

"Given the addition the the light MEU to the previous proposal, I project a seventy-four point seven three nine reduction in piracy," Stenik reported, putting up the mathematical model on the screen for all to view.  "This solution seems quite sufficient."

"'Sufficient.'  A core Federation sector is suffering repeated attacks with Dominion-made weapons, and you think a reduction of about seventy-five percent is 'sufficient'?  Would that be sufficient if the sector under attack was Vulcan's?"

Leone spoke before Stenik could, "Colonel, that's hardly fair to the Commander."

"Isn't it, Admiral?" Andrus rose from his seat.  "If this were about numbers, I'm sure that you both would be satisfied with the outcome.  But if this was Earth, or Vulcan, we all know that Starfleet's response would be much more than a minor redeployment of patrol vessels and the possible addition of a light MEU.  This is my _home_ , but people are dying and we must do what we can to protect them, and we're failing in our jobs."  His voice lowered, rumbling in his throat as he spoke with barely concealed anger, "If we're satisfied with even one death, then what the hell are we doing here?"

He never gave Leone nor Stenik the opportunity to respond.  He strode out of the Admiral's quarters with his white-knuckled fists at his sides.

* * *

"Bold move to leave like that," noted Abbie, as she spoke with Andrus over tea and coffee in her ready room.  "I can only assume it was discretion over valor."

Andrus grumbled, "Something like that.  I didn't want to say something I couldn't take back.  Her emotional state presents some difficulty in respecting her when she's trying to be a leader."  He reached forward to pull the mug of coffee to his lips and took a quick sip of the scalding liquid.  "That being said, I'm still forced to question the wisdom of Starfleet Command in sending her here. Going from Deputy Chief of Starfleet Intelligence to some pencil-pushing position in the Ministry seems fishy to me."

"Questioning Starfleet Command is the number one pastime in this organization," mused Abbie.  "For the record, Deputy Chief is also a pencil-pushing position, just in a different building on the same campus."

He grimaced. "You know what I mean."

"I do," Abbie replied.  "Is there something else though?  Because she's not saying anything Command hasn't been saying about the sector since Betazed was retaken."

"That's exactly the point.  She is parroting the Starfleet line, leaning on everything Stenik is saying because her mind can't really concentrate on anything that isn't Ariel's death."

"Even in death, she's screwing up operations," Abbie noted sourly.  At Andrus' look, she added, "I don't give a shit about 'speaking well of the dead' and you know it.  Hell, you agree with my opinion of her. You probably think even less of her than I did."

"True," Andrus acknowledged, slumping back in his seat.  "I cannot understand the depth of Leone's grief over a person like that, unless that person was manipulating her as she tried to manipulate so many others."

"That she never saw the manipulations is the problem.  I don't know that Ariel ever tried her tricks on Leone, or at least to the degree she could have, but Leone refused to see anything wrong in her behavior to anyone.  To her, Ariel was her sister and her blind spot, like Govan is your blind spot. I doubt she knows about Jesse. I'm sure she's blocked the 'incident' with Govan from her mind.  And yes, I only use the word 'incident' because your brother refuses to call it what it was."

Andrus' fist clenched.  "We should have brought her up on charges."

"Which Leone would have made go away, especially with Govan's refusal to discuss it."

"Harli's refusal.  This was Harli."

"On that, I think you're wrong.  Govan and Harli, really, and truly, are one and the same.  You were there when…"

Andrus cut her off.  "I don't want to discuss this.  He's my brother and I can't... I don't deal with that incident very well as a result.  Let's get back to Leone." He leaned forward to emphasize his words. "If she shows up to Betazed like that, singing the Starfleet song and repeating everything Stenik says… Abbie, we are going to have a diplomatic incident.  I am trying to keep my planet and system from thinking that the Federation doesn't take the security of their home seriously, but I will lose that battle if that's what Starfleet is sending to us to 'help'.

"When it comes to Betazoids serving in the Fleet, we're extorted mercilessly to keep ourselves and our emotions under control.  She's swimming in grief and guilt, and she's thrown out into the field in a delicate operation when she's really incapable of putting aside these personal questions the way that I am forced to.  I would love nothing more than to denounce Starfleet, rip off this uniform and go lead the militia on Betazed. Maybe even finally start the family I've always wanted, but no, I understand that the service has to come first for the Federation and for Betazed's sake.  Meanwhile, she's-"

This time, Abbie cut him off.  "She's running around on emotional fumes, yes.  I know. And you know that I mean to speak with her privately about these issues, despite her best efforts to brush me off.  But I don't accept your premise, that you can't have a family and serve without be compromised." She motioned to her growing belly.  "If I did, I wouldn't have gotten pregnant. I wouldn't have married Greg. And honestly, if you truly believed that, you wouldn't have been proud when both Isira and Govan followed you into Starfleet.  Krystine needs to get her feet under her again and then she'll be the tactician we know her to be."

Andrus took a breath.  "Okay. But, _you_ speak to her.  If she doesn't pull herself together by the time we reach the system, I'm going to have to intervene with Starfleet.  She cannot be the face of this mission in her current state."

"Agreed," Abbie answered with a nod.  "I'll pull Jay into it if it comes to that."  She paused, then gave him a smile. "So, you've been offered the command of the entire Betazed militia, have you?"

Andrus had the grace to look a bit sheepish.  "Is it really that surprising?"

"No.  But I'm glad for Starfleet's sake that you're saying no.  We really can't afford to lose you."


	9. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Historian's Note:** This chapter begins after the events portrayed in the Star Trek: Voyager seventh season episode, "Natural Law," and just before "Homestead."

**Chapter Eight**

 

NCC-73878 (USS _Indefatigable_ )  
Approaching the Beta Zeta system, Warp 7.  
Stardate 54814.61 (28 October 2377)  
Flag Quarters

 

"What did you need to speak with me about privately?" Leone asked wearily.  She was seated at the desk in her office, her gaze on the streaking stars outside the window.  "If this is one of your patented, 'real talk' pep talks, Abbie, I'm not interested. I'm perfectly fine."

"That's a steaming pile of shit, Krystine," Abbie answered flatly.

That got Leone's attention.  She turned her head back to look at Abbie; first in surprise, followed closely by anger at being addressed so casually.  Her hazel eyes narrowed. "I don't recall granting permission to speak freely, _Captain_."

"I didn't ask because you wouldn't have given permission and this needs to be said.  You are not fine; you're barely functional. I know it, Andrus knows it, and if we get to Betazed, you're going to be eaten alive by a planet full of telepaths who aren't predisposed to think kindly of Starfleet right now.  Their anger will turn an unpleasant situation into a full-blown diplomatic incident when they blame Starfleet for sending someone who is borderline incompetent right now." Abbie was standing over the desk but leaned forward to emphasize her point.  "I knew the moment you stepped on my ship. Andrus just had to get within a few hundred meters of you. What do you think you're going to do on Betazed?"

Leone's expression darkened as Abbie continued to speak.  "First things first," she said once the opportunity presented itself, "Colonel Otex is _reading_ me? Without my permission? And further, he's discussing his instinct with other officers?"

"You served in Intelligence for how long and you don't know that Andrus is one of the most powerful telepaths in the Fleet?  He didn't 'read' you; he can't help but pull in surface thoughts of everyone within a certain proximity. If your mind is screaming something, he tends to take notice. And hell yes he's discussing it with me.  This mission is as much my mission as yours. You're a compromising factor right now and of course we fucking discussed it." Abbie's anger was apparent. "Stop trying to change the subject."

The small black chess piece made an appearance within Leone's hand; she rolled the bishop back and forth while keeping her expression stony under Abbie's words.  "I-I will see to my duty."

"Repeating everything Stenik says isn't seeing to your duty.  We know that's your plan, more or less, right now. You need to see to your emotional state right now, before we get to Betazed, or else you're going to end up just like Ariel.  She constantly denied her mental state and look where it got her."

The bishop stopped rolling.  Leone clenched it within her right fist tightly as she rose to stand from behind her desk.  "Yes, look where it got her, Abbie. It wasn't her emotional state that ordered her to her death, was it?" she said, her tone rising with every other word.  "It was me! I used her because I knew that if it was Jesse, that she would prosecute him with every ounce of prejudice in the field!" She threw the bishop against the inner bulkhead hard enough to knock against the door leading to the outer office, then grabbed the nearest PADD and slammed it down on the desk hard enough to crack the screen.  "I did it to her. I got her killed. And I did it because I treated her like shit for years and then dangled the promise of a renewed career when that mission came up."

Charity entered the office, in response to the commotion.  "Is everything all right, Admiral?"

Leone glared at her flag lieutenant with tears in her eyes.  "Get the fuck out, Charity."

As Charity retreated wordlessly, Abbie shook her head.  "No. You finally called her on all her shit, relegated her to an assignment where she could not longer wreck havoc and gave her a shot at redemption which you knew had a high likelihood of death.  Guess what? You're not the only person in this fleet who might have to order someone they love into a situation where they could get killed. Let's face it, Krystine, you both ignored her emotional problems for too many years until you were forced to deal with them.  Don't let that happen to you."

"I told her that she was an embarrassment," whispered Leone as she leaned over her desk.  The teardrops hit the black slate surface in an uneven pattern. "I told her that she wasn't fit to wear the uniform any longer… right before I sent her out.  I said that this was her final chance, the last possible chance she had before I would put in her cashier paperwork with BuPers."

"Her death doesn't make that untrue."  Abbie sighed and levered herself into the seat before the desk.  "The last thing I said to my father before he committed suicide is that he was a selfish, egotistical asshole.  It wasn't a lie when I said it and his death didn't change that. Ariel had problems. She refused to deal with them.  You eventually put your foot down after giving her chance after chance. You gave another chance, at a point where everyone else in the Admiralty would have cashiered her, and it ended in her death.  But her death is the result of her actions."

"I'm well aware that you held no love for her," Leone said as she looked up to face Abbie with hostility.  "I don't expect you to understand our relationship. I've ordered people to their deaths before, directly and indirectly.  But, it's different this time."

"My orders to command _Implacable_ and where she was stationed during the war came from Jay.  Don't fucking tell me I don't understand the relationship. He is the father I never had.  But he and I both understood that when you wear the uniform, you accept the risks. If you don't understand that anymore, than you can't wear the uniform either."

"Oh, I understand that very well.  You forget your place," Leone's eyes steeled against Abbie's assertion.  "I don't bemoan the order and I never have. If I had the opportunity and situation given to me again, I'll pull the trigger no question.  This isn't about that."

Leone slumped down in her seat, defeated.  Her teary gaze returned to the streaking stars outside.  "I keep imagining those final moments… when she was run through with a Klingon blade, that her last thoughts were that she let me down.  She didn't know… she never lived to see the mission to its successful completion, but every time I close my eyes… when I try to sleep, I dream that she was absolutely alone in the universe.  Without any friends left in the fleet, without her family. And it kills me inside to know that I put her in that position… it was my orchestration that led to that end for her. As if dying wasn't bad enough." 

"That's crap.  She's the reason she died alone.  She had her chances at meaningful relationships and she pissed on them.  And no matter what you said to her, the fact that you gave her any kind of chance to redeem herself would have told her what you meant to her, that wouldn't let her languish in a menial job," Abbie retorted.

Leone sniffed as she rubbed her nose with a hand towel retrieved from underneath her desk.  "Intellectually, you're right. But I'm not ready to accept that with my heart. I'm not as cold and logical as you want me to be."  She tossed the towel down on the desk and sighed. "Maybe it _was_ a mistake to put me out in the field, but my mother will not be disobeyed.  If I rely on Stenik, it's because he's there to be relied on. If I rely on you, it's because I know from experience that you're reliable.  For the time being, he's making sense, but I'll have the final say on any proposals we submit to the Betazed government."

"He's there to be relied upon, not have his opinions and judgments be a substitute for yours.  Which is what you're doing in meetings with Andrus and on Betazed, you're going to get called out for doing it.  I having trouble reconciling your steadfast refusal to get help right now compared to when you sent Dominic to counseling after your divorce.  Even if you never mandated that Ariel went, you knew enough then to get him help."

Leone mutely nodded a few times at the mention of Dominic's counseling.  "Yes, I remember… fine. Then, I want counseling as well."

"Really?  Just like that?  Are you trying to just get me out of your office?  Because you know I can beam the counselor inside here if necessary."

"No, I don't want your ship's counselor.  I want someone specific. Someone who already knows me," replied Leone as she wiped her eyes to sort herself out.  "I would want Isira, but she's busy at the moment, so I'll settle for her brother."

"Andrus is a Marine, not a counselor."

"He's already been up here before," Leone replied, tapping at her head.

"Only if you'll see one of the grief counselors on board as well."

Leone scowled.  "Let me remind you that this is _not_ a negotiation, Captain.  I've made my decision. I'll talk to the Colonel.  If you put stock in his opinion of my mental state enough to come up here and dress me down in a manner that any court-martial would consider to be Insolence, then you'll have to accept his opinion after we've spoken."

"If the Colonel mandates you should see a grief counselor, you will see one."  Abbie was not backing down, threat of court-martial or no.

"You don't have the chips to see that hand out to the end, Abbie.  Let me talk to him, first. I need to find my compass before I can figure out my next step, and I'm not ready to let someone else in after you kicked down the door," Leone said slowly.  "Don't push it."

"I'm not going to let it end here, Krystine," Abbie warned.  "I don't have the luxury of doing that."

Leone forced a smile on her lips and turned her attention to the desktop terminal.  "I'll see the Colonel as soon as possible. Thank you, Captain. That _will_ be all."

* * *

The replacement flag lieutenant was a Tellerite named Phenna.  When she walked, Angelina became acutely aware of her hooves clattering against the deck, and it was that sound that preceded her entry into her office.  With her gruff tone that seemed to border on disrespect, she informed Angelina, "Admiral Paris to see you, sir."

Angelina rose from her desk with a smile at the visit from a very old friend.  "Show him in, Lieutenant. Owen, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Angelina. Well, I wish I could say this was purely a social call, but actually, I had a visitor to my office this morning.  You might know him; Lieutenant Leone."

Her good humor disappeared and she showed him in to the small reception area of her office.  She looked at Phenna and said, "That will be all for now, Lieutenant." As they took their seats, she said, "I see.  I suppose this is about his reassignment to Headquarters."

"He came by with a bottle of my favorite scotch - no idea how he knew about that - and told me he really only had one thing to say about the assignment.  He wasn't selected to go to the Tactical School immediately out of the Academy to pull desk duty at Headquarters. He doesn't even have enough field experience to be a qualified tactical advisor.  He is only prepared to do what was originally intended and that is to serve out there on the line. I can't say I disagree with him."

Angelina crossed her legs at the knees and sighed.  "Owen, I think you understand better than most that it's important to make sure that members of your family are safe from harm.  Your son, Tom… he's _still_ in the Delta Quadrant, isn't he?  Wouldn't you have wanted him to remain here rather than out and alone for all those years?"

"He isn't alone.  I know that because he has a wife and a baby on the way.  And your grandson won't be alone either. He's going to be in the middle of a fleet, which is more than Tom had."

"Well, I think he could do more here than with Vanguard.  I'm aware of their necessity, and they can make do without another Tactical officer in the fleet," Angelina replied softly.  "I'm sure he's made his case to you, but I think that given my years of experience in Starfleet, I might have a better understanding of what's best for my grandson."

"I have more years in Starfleet than you do, and I think he needs to go with Vanguard.  I don't think you have the power to overrule both Alynna and myself," Owen answered calmly.  "I also wonder if, like myself, you might not be making the wrong decision about a member of your own family.  It can be hard for us to see them for people in their own right."

She pulled her lips into a smile, but did not show any teeth.  "I see that Dominic has learned the game of politics very well.  He called the right people together to force my hand, and I can't say that I'm particularly pleased with that fact.  I feel that I have a responsibility to my daughter to see to his safety… _in loco parentis_ , so to speak."

"She's got two stars, Angelina, and she thinks he belongs out there, too," Owen reminded her.  "Not to mention that he's a grown man, not beholden to his parents or those who would serve in their stead."

"So, you've dropped by to tell me that I need to cut the apron strings, is that it?"  Angelina offered a grin to show her attempt at joviality.

"He doesn't seem to be holding onto them, Angelina.  Don't make bad blood with your own grandson over this."

"Yes.  Well. That's good advice, Owen," she said stiltedly as she rose from her seat.  "Thank you for taking the time to walk all the way over from Operations to see me about this."

"Of course.  We should have dinner sometime soon.  Don't worry; I won't invite Jorgenson," Owen joked as he got to his feet.

"Mmhmm, of course.  Thank you," Angelina said with a fake chuckle at his joke.  Once alone in the office, she waited until ten minutes had passed before opening a channel to _Adamant_ 's commanding officer.

* * *

Captain Theodore Lo looked up as Teelis entered his office within the Special Projects section of the Corps of Engineers complex at Utopia Planitia.

"You asked to see me, sir," she said.

Lo nodded.  "Yes, I did.  Please have a seat," he raised a hand toward one of the open seats before his desk.

Teelis inclined her head in gratitude as she sat down, but otherwise waited for the captain to continue.

"I wanted to inform you that I've been reassigned to Task Force Vanguard, and I will be leaving with the next wave of ships in the very near future," Lo said without preamble.  "This will obviously be a significant change to our department, and given your exposure to all of our projects, I wanted you to be among the first to know."

"Sir, you are overseeing most of those projects.  I do not understand why Starfleet thinks you would be more valuable in the field," Teelis answered, confused.

"It appears that the situation in the current Vanguard mission has necessitated an engineering officer of sufficient rank and experience to see to the mission's success… and I fit the bill," Lo said unconvinced.  "Starfleet received a transmission from Admiral Gareth this morning, and I was notified less than an hour ago. Commander Chur'rukna will have temporary command of this section until they assign a permanent replacement."

Teelis blinked in response, the only sign of her reservation about his named replacement.  "Yes, sir. Is there anything I can do to help you prepare for your assignment?"

He raised his brows at the offer of help.  "I, uh… sorry, you caught me off guard. But yes, if you could pull all the data on the new warp sleds, and everything we've got on cloaking technology not including that project you did with _Gallant_ , it would be a great start.  There's also some new special warp drive that _Europa_ was playing with, and I'll need that data, too."

"Yes, sir.  We've 'ironed out more of the kinks', as they say, on the drive project," she offered helpfully as she rose to her feet. 

"Excellent," Lo said with a smile.  "One more thing..."

"Yes?"

"There's a new project that requires your expertise, and I wanted to make sure that you're placed in charge before it became someone else's problem," he told her.  "You're a problem solver, and this is most definitely a problem needing a solution."

"In charge, sir?  What about Commander Chur'rukna?"

"The commander is aware and will be expecting progress reports, but for this one, I'd like you to demonstrate your ability and skills without the direct oversight.  You're ready to operate without a net, Lieutenant."


	10. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

NCC-76781 (USS _Adamant_ )  
Docking Bay 94, Spacedock, Sol III  
Stardate 54825.85 (28 October 2377)  
Wardroom

Dominic stared at the display of his PADD, though the data held upon the small device did not move nor change over the fifteen minutes he spent eyeing it.  Upon the table before him sat a cooling mug of tea, barely twenty minutes from the replicator within the ship's wardroom on deck two. The intensity of his stare managed to give him an aura of isolation within the room, where many of his fellow officers might have approached him that morning or perhaps joined him.

The data on the display pertained to the operational status of _Adamant_ , but his mind existed light-years away from his task.  His trepidation lie in the events of the previous days and the result of his machinations as he tried his best to maneuver within the political sphere of Starfleet Command.  At worst, he would be transferred from his ship and made to report to his grandmother for at least the next twelve to eighteen months. At best, he would find himself joining _Adamant_ as they ventured into the Delta Quadrant as part of the Task Force.

Though he knew what two of the possible outcomes were, he wondered if he might've overlooked any other possibilities.  His grandmother could have him transferred to _another_ admiral's office instead of hers, or he could find himself on another ship that would remain in the Alpha or Beta Quadrants.  His consideration left him unable to concentrate on the task at hand; the reason he sought the wardroom in the first place. The data he needed for his report continued to reside on the small PADD screen, waiting to be used as he delayed.

As if to respond to his dithering, the PADD chirped and his screen evicted the operations information in favor of an incoming transmission from Earth.  The display informed him that it was a non-urgent text message from the Starfleet Bureau of Personnel.

Dominic straighten in his seat.  Okay, he thought, this is it. He tapped the PADD's control surface and the screen revealed the contents of the message.  He finished reading and could not control the smile on his lips.

He had won.  He would be joining the task force aboard _Adamant_.  The signature on the message was Admiral Jorgensen's, but it was countersigned by Admiral Paris.

He reveled in his victory briefly, and then felt its hollowness.  Somewhere, down on the surface of Earth, his grandmother would be seething over the reversal of her would-be fortune.  While he knew that he made the right choice, he felt that his initial joy was fleeting.

Dominic cleared his screen and tapped in the command to open a new transmission to Starfleet Headquarters.  The call negotiated the various security routes before finally displaying his grandmother's emotionless visage.

"Did you call me to crow over your decisive victory, Dominic?" she asked, without greeting him.

He shook his head, "No, sir, I didn't.  I wanted to express my gratitude."

"' _Gratitude_?'" Vice Admiral Angelina Leone frowned deeply.  "I fail to see how you would thank me for any of this."

"You could of fought me on this… much harder than I was capable of.  You could have transferred me to another ship, or even another admiral," Dominic replied softly in order to express the penitence he felt toward her.  "You let me go, and I know how difficult it was for you. I'm not indifferent to that."

Angelina's features softened as he spoke to her.  "I'm worried over you," she said with a sigh. "This nature of this mission… the projections show we're going to lose a lot of people.  There are many admirals who feel that we should withdraw the mission, in light of current events. If you were to be killed over there while your mother has entrusted your safety to me-"

He raised his hand and smiled.  "If you wanted me safe, you would've prevented me from joining Starfleet.  You encouraged me to. You and Mom… you're role models to me. You've both fought in wars."  He paused dramatically. "You didn't think about your own safety with regard to your family… you used it to ensure that we had a future to make choices like this for ourselves."

Angelina narrowed her eyes in disbelief.  "Very smooth, Lieutenant. But what I believe you fail to understand is that you are the only member of your generation within our family.  If you die... "

"Then I die," Dominic replied in a firm tone.  "If you understand only one thing about me, then understand this: I wear this uniform proudly, and if I die in the line… then I know I'll have died doing exactly what I wanted to do.  Our family legacy is not my highest priority, and if you need another son, then I suggest that you and Grandpa enjoy a romantic evening out and get started."

She said nothing for at least thirty seconds.  Heaving a sigh, she finally said, "I know that you've never been particularly proud of being a Leone, but you should know that you are most definitely my grandson.  Keep that wit and backbone with you in the Delta Quadrant, Dominic. Your survival depends on it."

Dominic nodded slowly.  "Thank you."

"And no matter what happens, you know that your Grandpa and your mother love you very much," Angelina said.

He tilted his head slightly.  "And you?"

"I'm letting you go, aren't I?"

Dominic looked down at his hands and smiled.  He lifted his eyes back to the screen and signed off with, "I love you, too, Grandma."

* * *

Andrus waited in the anteroom of Leone's office aboard _Indie_.  He eyed Charity for a moment, noting, "I don't appreciate being called for a meeting and then being told to cool my heels for a bit, Lieutenant."

"I don't have much control over the Admiral's schedule, sir," Charity responded, an edge to her voice.

"I'll remember that when I get a staff of my own," Andrus responded icily.  

Before Charity could reply, a message came through to her screen.  "The _Admiral_ will see you now," she intoned, stressing the high rank of her charge.

"Remember, Charity, you didn't go to Starfleet Academy for this," Andrus replied with a sigh, realizing he was taking out his frustration with the admiral on her aide. As he stood and headed through the doors to the office proper, he added,  "Aim higher."

The doors closed before she had a chance to reply.  Within the confines of the VIP office compartment, Rear Admiral Leone turned away from the large screen as the text upon it told of a recent transmission from Starfleet Command.

"I apologize for the delay, Colonel," Leone began.  "Admiral Sitek requested a status update via subspace and I had to respond personally."

"There's not much to update, is there, sir?" Andrus asked rhetorically, before gesturing to one of the seats in front of her desk. "May I?"

She gave a succinct nod before returning to her own seat behind the desk.  "Regarding our brief detour to assist the civilian freighter. The Border Service commander, Admiral Bouvier, is looking to redeploy cutter coverage and Admiral Sitek requested my perspective on the matter."

"I see.  So, I have been summoned.  I take it you want to discuss the upcoming mission," Andrus continued carefully, after settling himself in a seat.  Her mental state was just as tumultuous as before, but there was a self-awareness not previously seen.

The chess piece made an appearance, within her right hand.  It rolled between her fingers as she spoke. "Commander Stenik's plan has been revised to include the particulars we discussed earlier.  As he'd submitted it more than a day ago, I was wondering if you'd had a chance to review it and if you'd share your thoughts."

"Candidly, sir?" Andrus asked, responding to a thought in her mind.

Leone said nothing.  She silently assented with a raised brow and a slight inclination of her head.

"It's not enough.  It's not even close.  If this is the whole plan, or even the just the first half, we're going to have a diplomatic incident.  The people and the government of Betazed are waiting for Starfleet to come through for them and if they don't, again, the calls for a secession debate will begin."

"Admiral Bouvier expressed the same concern, actually," Leone said calmly, though Andrus could sense it was not the first words that came to her mind.  "Her stated intention to the Fleet Admiral is to begin a recall of reserve officers back to active duty, however, the Council has to issue that order. She's trying to garner support for the idea at the highest levels.  My contacts at MinDef are urging the President to back her plan."

"Good.  Unfortunately, that's not going to help in the short term, given that the Council is not known for quick decisions.  And by the time those officers are actually recalled and deployed, we're looking at reinforcements in six months, at very best."

Leone offered a wan smile.  "The perils of operating in a democratic republic, Colonel.  We opted for that over a despotic government, as I recall. Affirmed that during the Dominion War, in case you missed it."

"Starfleet isn't a democracy.  It wasn't a democracy that moved the Tenth Fleet out of position for _training exercises_ in the middle of a war, directly leading to the deaths of millions of Betazoids and the systematic torture and imprisonment of thousands more.  Fine, the Federation is moving, albeit slowly. But Starfleet has to move now."

"Starfleet operates at the pleasure of a democracy, and we're not autonomous.  We go where the Federation says we go," Leone explained slowly, almost patronizingly.  "Now, if you have specific concerns regarding the commander's plan, we should discuss and amend the proposal now so that we can execute it quickly.  Let's stop speaking in the abstract."

Andrus leaned forward.  "You need to move to protect the space lanes immediately, while also providing materials and support for the Betazed Defense Force.  The redeployment of the ships in Stenik's plan can, and should, only be first step in a longer plan. We also need a full MEU. I've spoken to brain trust at Marine HQ.  If we ask for it, we'll get it. But the asking has to come from someone with flag rank."

She pointed to her collar.  "Is two stars sufficient? I've already put in a request to General Felter, Colonel.  But even the Marine Corps is feeling the pinch. To muster even a light MEU takes time and we'll be lucky to see them deployed in six months' time.  According to the General, he's projecting twelve to fourteen months. Either way, what we need to do first is to set the proper expectations for your government.  We need to express that we are aware of the problem and we're working as quickly as we can to alleviate it equitably."

"The expectations of Betazoid government are pretty low right now.  Neither the First nor the Fifth House has much faith in Starfleet or the Federation, which at the moment is preparing yet more ships and people for a mission in the Delta Quadrant.  What you have to do is vastly exceed those low expectations."

Leone took in a deep breath and asked plainly, "If they offered you a position within the Defense Forces, would you accept it?"

"They have offered me a position, the position if you will, and despite Isira's desires on the matter, I'm seriously considering the post," Andrus responded flatly.

She winced inwardly and Andrus caught it.  Leone turned away from him and for a moment, he interpreted her motion to indicate that she had dismissed him.  But, there was something about her frame of mind that caused him to remain as she worked her console.

The large viewscreen lit up once more and a new transmission opened up.  A Starfleet captain appeared on the screen after a short delay and he smiled.  "Admiral Leone," he said with a nod. "Colonel."

Leone replied quickly, "Captain, what's your status?"

All pleasantness disappeared from the captain's face and expression.  "Sir, we've over thirty-three vessels on reserve standby, with seven more in various states of repair.  I would estimate that they'll be cleared for reserve status within six months."

"Thank you.  As soon as we done with this call, I'm issuing a written order to deploy twelve of your reserve standby fleet to Betazed, immediately.  All twelve should be ready for active duty."

Andrus turned to gaze at the Admiral, discerning her plans immediately.  He considered the current total of BDF members and hazarded to guess that they could fully man the ships within two months.  Cynically, he wondered if their deployment would be conditioned upon his retention within Starfleet, but dismissed that thought as he realized how clear Leone's own thoughts were at the moment.  

The captain blanched, "Admiral, with all due respect, we have no crews to man them.  If we deploy them for active service, they'll be operating with skeleton crews at the very best.  You can't do this."

Leone clenched the bishop piece in her hand and her tone sharpened.  "I know I didn't just hear you tell me what I can and cannot do, Captain."

"No, sir," he said quickly.  "I apologize. What I meant to say, sir, is that Starfleet regulations clearly state that ships on active duty must carry a sufficient crew compliment.  Without that regulation satisfied, I cannot obey your order."

"I never said they were going on active duty, Captain.  I said that I wanted them ready for active duty. The regulation will be satisfied, and I intend to deploy them to Betazed."

The captain relaxed.  "Aye, sir. They will be underway before the end of the day."

"Thank you.  And Captain?"

"Yes, sir?"

"This is the last time I have to repeat myself when we speak.  Understood?"

The captain visibly swallowed.  "Aye, sir."

She closed the channel without saying anything further.  She turned to face Andrus. "If I promise to do all that I can to make the Betazoid people feel safer, will you help me?  I feel that the success of this mission utterly depends on your assistance. I feel that without your help, we fail… and I feel that you would be most unhappy if that were to occur." 

"Betazed is stronger within the Federation than without it, yes," Andrus answered sincerely.  "And I do appreciate that you, that Starfleet, seems to finally be doing something. But I know what you're asking of me, to obfuscate your emotional state right now, which yes, is something I can do.  But not without cost. You're going to be in rooms with some of our most powerful leaders, all of them great telepaths. I'm not going to be able to back you up as readily on the military side of things if I'm blocking their sense of you." 

The bishop rolled between her fingers, nervously.  "I don't want to needlessly upset them. What are my options?"

* * *

Andrus entered the turbolift to head down to the Captain's quarters for dinner only to find Abbie already inside.  She gave him a smile. "You look pleased," she told him.

"I finally had a meeting with Leone go well," Andrus confirmed.  "It's… allayed a lot of my fears about the mission." He roughly went over some of the details of the new plan, including the deployment of twelve reserve ships.

"That should make a real difference," Abbie agreed.  "Will it satisfy the Fifth House? And the First?" she asked of the governmental ruling body and the head of state.

"I think so.  All of the talk for them, at least, is to force Starfleet and the Federation to do more.  Now they're getting the response they're looking for, so they begin to calm down the population.  Let's face it - secession is going to be extremely difficult. So much of our other systems are intertwined with the Federation, including economically.

"Besides, the First House isn't as stogy as it used to be, or isn't as stogy as you think of them, I should say.  One of their princesses is marrying a commoner."

"Oooh, la ti da.  A real 'commoner'," Abbie guffawed.  "What did he do to come to the attention of _the_ First House?"

Andrus chuckled.  "He might have been an important resistance leader during the Occupation."

"Oh, Digan Joval," Abbie identified the man as she exited the lift on Deck 8, Andrus just a step behind her.

"I'm not surprised you know his name."

"Wait, Digan is marrying into the First House?  Wow. That's...actually impressive." Abbie smirked.  "I daresay you could probably marry into the First House too, if you're still thinking about running the Betazed Defense Force for them."

"Even if I was going to quit Starfleet and run the BDF, I would not marry into the First House."  At Abbie's knowing look, he admitted, "I always liked the Third House better."

Abbie chuckled, then winced as the baby kicked.  "Damnit. He can be a little jerk sometimes."

"I thought you two were waiting to find out the sex of the baby."

"Greg's waiting.  I needed to know what kinds of hormones were going to be flooding my system," Abbie snorted.  "Oh, speaking of, he's going to probably be in a bit of mood tonight at dinner. Just ignore it."

"Any particular reason?"

"Dorian Abernathy called yesterday, looking for a recommendation for a Chief of Ops on his ship.  During the call, he made jokes about how's he going to be a good stepfather to the baby one day."

"I would say I'm impressed by his dedication…" Andrus noted Abbie's glare.  "But I could just keep that to myself." He shook his head. "Greg isn't actually threatened by him, is he?  He does know that you would never entertain the idea. You're far more likely to end up with me someday than him."

"I know that, you know that.  Greg does not know that. And we really shouldn't tell him.  It just feeds that stupid, insecure part of him that we're not going to have time for with a baby on the way."

"He'll never hear it from me," Andrus promised.  

"Good.  Meanwhile, date someone seriously, for the love of god.  I don't want to hear Isira complain about her single brothers anymore," Abbie responded as they reached her quarters and the doors opened.  

"I'll take it under advisement."


	11. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten**

Lowell High School  
San Francisco, California, Earth  
Stardate 54845.8 (5 November 2377)  
Lowell High School Stadium

"That was interference!" Govan yelled, halfway standing from his seat on the bleachers to yell at the referee.  He was not the only member of the crowd to think so, but that did not change the call on the field.

Dominic reached out a hand.  "I think it was marginal, Govan..."  He was quickly met by a withering glare.  "Or not. I don't know lacrosse very well.  But Jacob's doing great. A goal and three assists so far."

"It should have been a powerplay there.  If the ref doesn't call the rough stuff, the other team will use that to their advantage."  Govan huffed at his seat, taking some comfort in the agreeing nods of the other parents around them.

"How much longer are you on leave for?" Dominic wondered, watching his friend carefully.

"Too long to be watching a blind ref!" Govan called out, eyes still on the field of play.

Dominic chuckled and decided to change the subject.  "I got my orders cut. I'm going out with Vanguard. I think it's thanks to Areinnye, you know.  Her advice really helped me out. I've even on Admiral Paris' radar thanks to her."

"Well, thanks to yourself, but yes, she's very skillful at political maneuvering," Govan agreed.

"It made me think that maybe that's how she's handling this Rihannsu getting their own planet business.  Behind the scenes…" Dominic looked to Govan for confirmation of his suspicions. The Betazoid only grinned at him.

"Why?  Why wouldn't she move more overtly?"

"It's not about her external perception, what folks in the Federation think of her. It's about the internal Rihannsu perception," Govan answered.  "In the Empire, Houses ran everything, run everything I should say. They are political, social, religious and judicial institutions, really. Areinnye's trying to change Rihannsu culture and make Houses the social institutions they're supposed to be.  So she can't do that if she's running around making speeches calling for this or that. She's Head of House, which is not an elected position and as such, she can't be putting herself out there as a political leader."

"Huh.  I didn't think of that."  Dominic paused to consider his words.  "She's really very clever. I wonder why Intelligence didn't try to recruit her."

"Why do you think they didn't try?"

"Oh."  Dominic flushed some, then gave his friend a wide grin.  "You know, I was on Spacedock the other day, and I have to tell you, she's got a coterie of admirers in the Marine Corps."

Govan heaved a dramatic sigh.  "I'm not the only man in uniform with impeccable taste in women, what can I say?"

"So why don't you ask her out?"

"Dom, when your love life has moved from the hypothetical to the actual, then you can give me dating advice," Govan teased in return.

While Dominic flushed again, Govan added, "I've got five hundred years of teasing experience, Dom.  I'll win every time."

* * *

"General Felter confirmed that he has ordered the formation of a light Marine Expeditionary Brigade," said Leone as she and Andrus entered the transporter room from the corridor.  Charity and Stenik waited inside before they were transported down to the surface of Betazed. "That will increase the marine presence on the planet to roughly seventy-five hundred split between three elements."

Charity took the PADD in Leone's hand wordlessly and packed it away into the duffel she carried over her shoulder.

"Which means that you'll be assigning a general to the sector," Andrus responded, with a nod.  "That will get the attention of the Betazed government."

Leone added, "I think that, in addition to the twelve-ship fleet now in orbit, should put us in a better position to open a renewed dialogue."

"Yes.  At your request, the delegation meeting us is small, but I also requested the presence of Joval.  He's a general in the BDF and I think he'll be a good avenue to convince the the more conservative elements of the First House that we mean to secure the planetary defense."

"Excellent."  Leone stepped up to the transporter pad and took her position.  Once everyone was in place, she gave the order, "Energize."

The disorientation of the transport subsided quickly as the scenic view of Rixx, the planet's capital city, faded into her view.  The site of the transport appeared to be near the seat of government, the main building of the Betazoid Fifth House. Several people stood nearby at a distance until the beam completed its task before approaching.

Andrus stepped forward from the group first to clasp hands with a uniformed officer adorned in the royal and midnight blue colors of the Betazed Defense Force.  "It's good to see you again, my friend," the man said warmly. 

"And you, my friend," Andrus answered.  "Admiral Krystine Leone, may I present General Digon Joval, commander of the Betazed Defense Force and soon to be prince of the First House of Betazed."

Leone and Joval exchanged greetings, and then introductions were made all around.  The planet's Defense Secretary, the Home Secretary, and their military liaisons attended their arrival, making for a rather impressive group.  All of them seemed to peer at Leone in confusion briefly, before warmly greeting her and the rest of her party.

"Thank you," Leone said, "for not making a big deal out of my arrival.  I'm here to provide Federation assistance in the defense of the Beta Zeta system and its people.  Let's get to work."

* * *

The next morning, Dominic stood his watch on the bridge of _Adamant_ while the ship's preparations were nearly completed.  In the next twenty-four hours, they would depart Spacedock en route to Bastion Station with the rest of the reinforced fleet that would join Task Force Vanguard.  According to Starfleet regulations, an in-port watch required only three people: an officer of the deck along with an operations specialist and a tactical specialist.  Aboard _Adamant_ , however, the captain required that the bridge be fully manned and ready.

"Lieutenant," said the third class petty officer at the tactical station, "the port watch is reporting a visitor requesting permission to come aboard."

Dominic looked toward the tactical position quizzically, "Since when does the port watch need our permission to do so?"

"Sir, it seems the visitor is here to see you.  She's carrying a rather high clearance."

"I see.  Very well, inform them that I'll be there shortly," he said, rising from the executive officer's seat.  He turned to his junior officer of the deck and said, "You have the bridge, Ensign."

Teelis was waiting for him within the secure area of the airlock.  Dominic waved off the two marines and said, "It's all right. I'll take it from here, thanks."

Dominic watched as the marines all but tittered as Teelis gave them a smile and said, "Thank you."  She had that effect on people.

The engineer stepped into the ship properly, then inclined her head to Dominic.  "Permission to come aboard, sir?"

"Permission granted," replied Dominic automatically.  He led her into the ship's corridor and away from the airlock.  "How can I help the Corps of Engineers, today?"

"I am here for personal reasons, Lieutenant.  I need to speak with Petty Officer Third Class Marek Tei, and then, if you have time, I'd like to speak with you privately as well," Teelis explained, her voice calm and steady.

Dominic took in a deep breath and tapped his commbadge.  "Petty Officer Tei, please report to Conference Room Three," he tapped it once more to close his connection to the intraship communications system.  "I have to return to the bridge. I have the duty this morning, but we can use the conference room up there when you're ready," he told her in an even tone.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Teelis replied with another of her smiles.  For a moment, Dominic felt like he was fourteen again, seeing her for the first time.  But he steeled himself and merely gave her a nod before she moved towards the turbolift to meet with the petty officer.

He waited until her car left in order to call for a new one.  Dominic allowed himself to outwardly express the turmoil of emotions within with a grimace.  After their last conversation, which was stilted at best, he had accepted that that would be the last time they would see each other for the duration of his mission to the Delta Quadrant.

Dominic entered the empty lift car and touched the control panel rather than speak aloud his destination.  He had come to an inner peace about Teelis and knew he would throw himself into his duties in order to distract himself from that knowledge.  Seeing her aboard _Adamant_ threw him into such a state of disarray that he had not realized his turbolift arrived and that an engineer was staring at him.

"Sir?"

He cleared his throat and stepped past the petty officer with a mumbled, "As you were."  Dominic retook his place on the bridge and waited, distractedly, for Teelis to arrive.for what seemed like many hours.  A glance at the chronometer when she appeared on the turbolift revealed that it had been only forty-five minutes.

Dominic ignored the stares the other officers as he got to his feet.  "If you'll follow me, Lieutenant," he said solicitously to Teelis as he led the way to the conference room.  Gratefully, she merely nodded, saying nothing until they were alone by the conference table.

He was completely surprised by her words.  "The House of Tei wishes to extend to you its blessings as you prepare to embark on your mission.  Will you accept these prayers on your behalf?" Teelis asked formally.

Surprise gave way to light disappointment.  With a slow nod, he told her that he would accept her prayers.  Though, he did not know how or what to do next, so he stood quietly and bowed his head.

"Just a moment," Teelis said, turning towards the large screen in the room and bringing up a call which had apparently been on hold.  The screen resolved into an image of Ael'Raha, her mother. Dominic could see she was in their family quarters on New Athens, by the family altar.  She was wearing formal robes and looked far younger than her eighty-some odd years. In fact, for the first time, he could see just how much she resembled her second daughter.

"Dominic," Ael'Raha began.  "We look upon you as a member of our own House, and by the ties of patronage between our families, we wish to extend every blessing we can on your mission."  

Dominic nodded again and then felt compelled to say, "I accept the blessings of the House of Tei."

Teelis came to stand beside him and offered her hand to him.  Once again startled, he took her hand in his own as her mother began the benediction.  Ael'Raha cradled a small bowl in her hands and spoke as she added a sprinkle of dirt and several drops of water.

"By the land that sustains us, by the water that preserves us, by the air that nurtures us, and by the fire that warms us, I, Ael'Raha i-New Athens t'Tei, extend to you the blessings of our House so that you may return to us whole."

She raised a knife, small and intricately detailed with filigree and took it to her left arm.  He saw now that she was marked with a series of small cuts and, as he watched, she made another.  Carefully, she collected the green blood which spilled into the bowl, then poured the contents over the brazier on the altar behind her.

"Let all the gods, old and new, hear our pleas for your safe journey.  May you bring honor to yourself and your bloodline. May you honor us all with your safe return."

She fell silent as the contents of the bowl turned to ash, and unsure of the protocol, Dominic said nothing in return.  Finally, Teelis squeezed his hand, a signal that he took to mean the ritual was over.

"Thank you," he said sincerely.  "I… I don't know how to thank you for that."

"You may thank us by taking care of yourself in the Delta Quadrant, Dominic," Ael'Raha told him, her voice soothing and calm as if she had not just injured herself.  "Please know that all members of the House of Tei will stand with you should you need anything when you are so far from home."

He cast a furtive glance toward Teelis, now completely unsure of what to do in light of the tremendous gesture made on his behalf.

"Thank you, Mother.  We know you have other benedictions to make, and we do need to say our goodbyes," Teelis said.  Ael'Raha smiled and inclined her head. "Be well, Dominic," she said before the transmission ended.

Left alone within the conference room, Dominic dropped his hand from hers as the ceremony completed.  He turned away from her to allow himself a moment to compose himself. "Uh, thank you," he said quietly.  "I wasn't expecting that… _level_ of prayer, I suppose.  That's never happened to me before."

Teelis moved around him until she was face to face with him again.  "You are important to us, to me. Of course we would do this for you."  She reached for his hand once more. "I know you think that I am angry with you, but even if I was, I would not let you go off on a long mission without saying a proper goodbye."

Dominic hesitantly accepted her hand in his, but did not trust himself to turn toward her.  Instead, he found the view of Spacedock's interior port to suit his purposes for the moment.  "I didn't want to leave you under those circumstances, but… I was prepared to accept that for the duration.  I spent a considerable amount of time preparing for it, actually."

Teelis sighed quietly. "Dominic, I am not a child.  I would never be able to allow such a thing to happen.  I was mad at myself for not seeing what was plainly before me.  Everyone knew and I felt foolish, but never was I angry with your actions.  You were right; the deception most likely saved me from many embarrassing moments and I thank you for that.  But now, you're going away for a long time, and it's time to put the past behind us."

He turned toward her.  "Really?" he asked, unable to keep his emotions in check any longer.  His tone was happier than before. "I would really like that."

"It is done.  Please take care of yourself, Dom.  I know sometimes you get so distracted by everyone else, you put yourself last.  Don't spend the next several years doing that," Teelis told him. She then reached into a pocket and pulled out an isolinear chip, offering it over with her free hand.  "This is for you, for when you need it."

Dominic looked down at the chip and wondered, "What is it?"

"It's the replicator recipe for the pork buns at our favorite Chinese restaurant in San Francisco.  I managed to convince Mister Li that it was important for you to have it."

He grinned widely and without thinking, closed his hand tightly around it.  "Thank you for that. It was really very thoughtful," Dominic held the chip and clutched it tightly.  "Really thoughtful."

"I thought about giving you one of the suicide device implants like the one I have, in case something truly awful happened, but I think this was better," Teelis attempted to joke, her mouth quirking.

At the mention of the device, the blood nearly drained from Dominic's face as he forced a laugh to come up.  "Yes… I think so, too. You made the right choice."

"Good," Teelis answered, then spontaneously dropped his hand to give him a hug.  "Please be careful, Dom. I promise you, Starfleet won't forget you out there and neither will I."

Dominic settled into the embrace, taking advantage of that rare display of affection from her.  "I'm coming back, I promise you I will." He turned his head slightly to gently kiss the side of her head before stepping back and turning himself back around to face away from her.  "You have to go before I tell my grandmother I changed my mind."

"Okay."  Dominic hadn't heard her use that expression before, and he smiled despite himself.  He listened to her as she moved towards the door, but he didn't hear it open. He finally turned slightly to find her regarding him.  

"I will write to you," she promised him, then turned and exited the room.

He waited until he regained control over his heart rate and then added a couple of minutes longer before he trusted himself to be seen by the bridge crew again.  Dominic slipped the isolinear chip into the small pocket on the right side of his trousers and faced toward his duty.

* * *

"Our first concern is the status of the Betazed Defense Force, which I have ordered to be officially adopted as a Starfleet Reserve unit," Leone said after the first meeting between all of the principles began.  "General Joval, as I understand it, you held a permanent grade of Colonel in the Starfleet Marine Corps during the war. I'm authorized to appoint you as a reserve Major General."

Joval merely inclined his head, as the Defense Secretary asked, "Will that mean that the Defense Force will no longer fall under the authority of the planetary government?"

Andrus shook his head.  "The Defense Force shall remain subordinate to the Fifth House, however, this status ensures that Starfleet military property will be entrusted to properly-trained reserve units.  That property includes the twelve starships previously allocated."

Leone added, "That's in addition to the planned orbital facility we're proposing to replace the obsoleted station that was overrun by the Dominion during the war.  The Starfleet Corps of Engineers will be arriving within the week to begin surveying. Hopefully, by this time next year, Betazed will have a proper Starbase to coordinate all defense activities."

This news pleased everyone at the table, except for the Defense Secretary.  "We're a little short on volunteers for our new reserve organization. It's great to have the equipment, but if we're unable to man those ships, then they're not as useful."

"We can allocate _some_ personnel on a temporary basis, but we prefer to hand over full control to you," Leone replied with a glance toward Andrus for support.

"I know of the current numbers for the defense force, but I thought that you were hopeful to have more signups in the next few months," Andrus suggested.  "I know we're not the most militarily-inclined people, but I think a concentrated campaign would bring you more volunteers."

"There are a number of former Starfleet personnel who've married into Betazoid families or who've immigrated to the planet for work," the Home Secretary mentioned.  "However, those numbers are woefully insufficient to put the entirety of this fleet to good use. Perhaps one or two vessels will have full compliments, but not twelve."

"And of those new recruits, the percentage of experienced personnel will put us at a severe disadvantage," added the Defense Secretary.

General Joval suggested, "The experienced officers and enlisted we do have could be retasked toward training our latest admits until further notice."

"You'd still need some of those to man your ships," Leone countered.  "If experience is the silver bullet, then may I make a suggestion that might solve multiple problems?"

After both secretaries nodded their assent, Leone continued, "What about offering a home to the Rihannsu currently displaced on New Athens?  Beta Zeta VI is perfect for them."

In the shocked silence that followed, Andrus spoke up.  "She's not wrong, really. I've served with a lot of the Rihannsu in the war. They're all trained; both Galae and Starfleet training.  They're fanatical, really, about protecting their new homeland. They have a culture of military service, so they'll be more than willing to give you more than just reserve officers. They could help us establish a real service academy as well, to train future officers."

"They're also, to be frank, a rapidly expanding population, who teach all of their children that military service is an essential part of their lives.  You would have continual stream of applicants to any academy, as well as enlistments," Leone noted.

"I think," Joval began carefully, glancing at the other ministers.  "There are major issues. First of all, the sixth planet has been designated as a nature preserve.  The government would have to remove that designation before anything could begin."

"And then there's the fact that along with their culture of military service they have a culture of telepathic aversion," the Defense Secretary stated firmly.

Leone raised both hands with her palms up as she spoke, "I'm not saying that this isn't without its challenges.  But, I don't believe that this government will find them insurmountable. You have all shown the Federation of your willingness and determination toward this level of diplomatic achievement in the past.  Your ambassadors are legendary."

"You wish us to unleash 'Hurricane Lwaxana' on the Rihannsu?" Joval asked in some amusement, using an appellation members of Starfleet often used to describe one of the most prominent members of the Betazed government.

The Home Secretary coughed.  " _Ambassador Troi_ ," he emphasized.

Leone merely smiled.  "I think you have yet to meet 'Typhoon Areinnye.'"

* * *

"May I introduce Ambassador Lwaxana Troi, Daughter of the Fifth House of Betazed, Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx and Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed," Andrus intoned formally on the conference call that they had arranged between Betazed and Spacedock.

The image of Areinnye inclined her head respectfully to the woman.  "Ambassador."

"And may I introduce Captain Areinnye Tei, Head of House to the House of Tei, and one of the most preeminent physicians in the Alpha Quadrant," Leone responded.

"Captain.  Or do you prefer Doctor?" Lwaxana inquired.

"You may call me Areinnye.  We are about to discuss a very intriguing proposal which would have extreme effects on both our peoples.  Let's not begin by letting ceremony get in the way of what could be a mutually beneficial arrangement."

"Very well, Areinnye," said Lwaxana with a beatific smile.  "Admiral Leone has suggested that we might come to an agreement for your House to settle the sixth planet of the Beta Zeta system.  As the new homeworld of your House."

"Not just my House.  All Rihannsu would be welcome.  Any proposal we would discuss, I would take the other Heads of House, as well as those who have chosen not to affiliate with a House.  While I can, and will, speak for the largest House, I cannot speak for all Rihannsu. I do, however, have a good sense of what they would find acceptable."

Lwaxana inclined her head.  "And should the other Houses disagree with any accords we agree to during this discussion?"

Areinnye smiled.  "Naturally, whatever you and I may agree to is subject to ratification by our peoples.  I imagine that while you and I may come to terms rather quickly, there will be some back and forth as we negotiate some of the finer details.  But I assure you, the House of Tei represents by far the largest segment of Rihannsu in the Federation and I am ready to make a deal."

"I would expect no less, as our government will also require ratification."  Lwaxana replied in kind. "I believe that the largest hurdle would be the custody of the planet, as our government has specified its status as a natural preserve under the Articles of Federation, dealing with the trust of natural resources for each member world.  We have several factions that are engaged in actively protecting Beta Zeta VI. Are there any suggestions that you might put forth to ease any tensions we're experiencing internally?"

"My people are not interested in despoiling the natural beauty of any planet on which we might settle.  Any place which would be our home would be carefully surveyed to ascertain where settlements might have the least impact on the environment.  Further, we would use that same care for any expansion of settlements in the future." Areinnye called up a global map of Beta Zeta VI. "I have taken the liberty of noting two possible areas of initial settlement.  Based on what I have read of your own surveys, these two areas offer the most growth with the least amount of damage to the planet itself."

Andrus glanced at Leone and gave her a half-smile.  She immediately understood his meaning. _It's going well._

Lwaxana asked, "And could our government include amongst the many many provisions, a charge to report and maintain stalwart custody of that preserve so long as you reside within it?"

"My mother is an environmental engineer.  More than the whole of your government, I fear her wrath if we do not maintain a stalwart custody of a planet of such beauty and resources," Areinnye replied dryly.  "She, like yourself, enjoys a healthy reputation among my people; she will likely be in charge of any and all preservation projects and her word will not be gainsayed."

The Betazoid ambassador visibly relaxed.  Andrus saw; that was the biggest hurdle for their world.  He turned back to Leone and gestured that they should leave them to discuss further details of the first proposal.  Based on the conversation so far, however, he felt confident that they could report back to their superiors that it was a done deal.


End file.
